The True Treasure
by Aate
Summary: Thorin is given another chance to live through the quest to reclaim Erebor. Perhaps this time he will live to see Erebor in her full glory instead of dying prematurely on a battlefield. Thorin/fem!Bilbo hurt!Thorin
1. In the Water Closet

_A/N: It's been a while since I've written fanfiction, so I thought I'd write something new to stimulate my brain before getting back to my old stories. I'm still fully intending to finish my WIP stories, so no worries there. It just might take yet a while._

_I know these kind of fix-it stories have been done before, but the image of Thorin dying due to BotFA and then suddenly finding himself sitting on the Middle-Earth's equivalent of a toilet bowl hasn't left me alone, so I thought I'd share this mental image with you lot. Besides, I've been wanting to write a fem!Bilbo story for a while already, so... well, yeah, here it is then. I hope you'll enjoy it. :)_

* * *

Thorin died at the foot of his beloved Erebor, the home he had so longed to reclaim for his people. Gazing at the teary eyes of the sweet Bella Baggins, he threw his last breath, full of regret for the things he had done and for the things he had failed to do, for the things he hadn't done well enough and for the things he should have left undone. When his mauled body let out its last gasp, Thorin was no longer there to hear it.

When Thorin opened his eyes after his painful and unpleasant death, his surroundings had changed quite drastically. Gone was the royal tent, the healing equipment, the grim-looking healers, Balin and Dwalin and Bella. In their place there was a tiny closet with a wooden door and the walls made of stone, a closet in which Thorin was, in fact, currently sitting with his trousers around his ankles, a yellow wiping sponge in his hand. Above the door, a small window allowed just enough light to pour in for Thorin to take in his dark surroundings.

After looking around himself with bewildered disbelief for quite some time, Thorin had to come to the disappointing conclusion that _the Halls of his Ancestors_ were remarkably similar to a water closet, and not just any water closet but his water closet back in Ered Luin: Thorin did recognize the familiar words – "_this side UP, you little rascals_" – his own knife had carved onto the wooden cover of the disposal hole, the cover that was currently laying against the door on the exact same spot where Thorin usually placed it when he was doing his business. The fusty smell and the buzzing flies were familiar to Thorin too, as was the feel of cold stone under his bare thighs.

Thorin's immediate reaction was to get angry, like he often did when his pride was hurt. Yes, he had done many regrettable things during his lifetime, but surely he had been mostly honourable enough not to deserve to begin his afterlife in a _water closet_ of all places! Thorin wasn't one to usually question Mahal's decisions, but had he not done as well by his people as simply was possible? Had he not been a good leader to the dwarrows? Had he not done his duty, and so much more?

He had succumbed to the dragon sickness in the last of his days, but surely his punishment could have been something other than being placed into a _water closet_ like some dirty piece of clothing no longer suitable for anything but wiping. It was simply a fate too humiliating to even think about, that Mahal himself would consider Thorin's rightful place to be in a water closet!

What if all his ancestors were on the other side of the door, waiting for him to step out of the water closet so that they could voice their scorn and disappointment? What if his mother was there, thinking him unworthy? Eru, what if _Dis and Frerin_ were there too?

Humiliated beyond belief, Thorin hid his face behind the hand that wasn't holding the yellow sponge. He wished desperately that he was still alive, so that he could alter this horrible fate.

Who knows how long Thorin would have sat there in his misery with his trousers around his ankles, a yellow wiping sponge forgotten in his clenched fist, hadn't he suddenly become aware of the loud banging and the shouts that accompinied the banging. From the sounds of it, someone was pounding on the water closet's door with the obvious intent on getting it opened.

"Come on!" the exasperated shout penetrated Thorin's thoughts. "You've been in there for ages! It's my turn now!"

With a start, Thorin realized that it was his older nephew shouting on the other side of the door. An immediate sinking feeling landed in the pit of his stomach as he realized that Fili must have followed him to death. Now more ashamed, guilty and regretful than humiliated, Thorin raised his head and forced himself to look at the door, readying himself to face Fili.

"If you were _anyone_ else," Fili was saying, "I'd break this door with an axe! I mean it, Thorin, so you know I'm serious, so come out already! _This isn't funny!_"

The last sentence was said in a slightly muffled voice, as if Fili had turned his head away from the door to hiss at someone behind him. At whom Fili was hissing became apparent in a moment later when Thorin heard painfully familiar laughter and a clear voice uttered between the chuckles, "Oh, but it _is_, Fili! Simply hilarious! This is one of the funniest things I've witnessed in months!"

Kili – Thorin would have recognized that voice, that bright laughter anywhere.

"This is _not_ _funny_, Kili!" Fili yelled and the pounding on the door resumed. "Open up, Thorin! _Let me in!_ It's my turn now."

Thorin tried to grasp the fact that _both_ of his dear nephews were now dead, alongside him, _because of him_ – it certainly was no longer a wonder why Mahal had considered the water closet to be a suitable place for Thorin to begin his after life in.

But why Fili was so determined to come into the water closet too, that Thorin couldn't understand. Fili had done nothing to deserve such a humiliating location for the beginning of his afterlife, after all.

"Why do you want to come in here?" Thorin forced himself to ask, trying to keep the hoarseness out of his voice.

For his question, he was given a guffaw by Kili and an annoyed, "well, why do you think – just let me in already," by Fili.

Slowly Thorin stood up, preparing to come face to face with his sister-sons as well as every Durin that had ever lived. Truly believing that his ancestors were waiting for him on the other side of the door, Thorin threw away the wiping sponge and pulled on his trousers, buckling his belt with clumsy, nervous movements, pondering in passing whether any a king before him, upon dying, had found himself sitting in a water closet.

Just as he was reaching for the lock to open the door, Thorin came to a sudden halt – the door had unexpectedly begun to glow. While Thorin stood there frozen, glowing words began to appear onto the door as if an invisible hand was writing them on it with firey ink. Startled, Thorin withdrew his hand as if burnt and stepped back in the cramped closet, hitting his calf against the stone seat. Ignoring the impact, he watched with wonder as words formed in front of his eyes one after another.

"_Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror_," the glowing writing addressed him. "_This is not your death; this is your grâhabunka, your Second Chance – do not waste it, for in the end, you _will_ die._"

Thorin read the words once, then several times more, not quite comprehending the message they contained. After he had learnt the words by heart and the message finally began to fade away, he still didn't quite believe his situation.

Like any well-educated dwarf, Thorin had, of course, heard of _grâhabunka_, the Second Chance. It was a rare opportunity given to a few dwarves by Mahal himself. It was a chance to live again, to try to live wiser, to put things right, to correct past mistakes. Never had Thorin thought that he would be granted such an honour, but here he stood, Mahal's message still clear in his mind.

Wondering whether he was actually still on his deathbed dreaming or hallucinating, Thorin ran his fingers along the rough surface of the door. He gained a few splinters by doing so but found no evidence of the existence of the glowing words. They had disappeared from everywhere but his mind. Thorin was determined they would remain there, too – if this was a dream, it was certainly very a real and peculiar one but not necessarily an unwelcomed one. At least, Thorin reasoned, he wasn't in a considerable amount of pain like he had been whilst on his deathbed – even though his shoulder did still ache a bit from where he had been run through with a sword by Azog.

Lifting his tunic, Thorin checked his body quickly but thoroughly, looking for any kinds of wounds. He found no fatal ones and the ones that he had were simple everyday cuts and burns, typical for any blacksmith, nothing to cause concern. Gone were the stab wounds given him by Azog and other orcs, nor were there any evidence of his being recently mauled by wargs.

Thorin felt his heart pounding a tad bit faster. If this was a dream, he would go with it for as long as it lasted. But if this wasn't a dream, if he truly had been given another chance by Mahal, if this truly was his _grâhabunka_...

Thorin swallowed hard, closing his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again.

If he had truly been given another chance, he still had time to try to change things – if he managed to live wiser, perhaps he would never have to see disappointment in the faces of his ancestors when he would finally meet them in the Sacred Halls. Perhaps he would never have to die only to find himself sitting in a _water closet_.

Perhaps he still had a chance with Bella.

Perhaps he could save more lives, this time.

An unfamiliar feeling, not unlike joy or triumph, filled Thorin's mind, while Fili's pleading reached his ears again.

"_Please_, Uncle," Fili was saying, desperation in his voice now clearly audible. "I really need to get in there _right now_. Please, let me in. Please. I can't hold it much longer and it's too late for me to run to the Fundinsons'."

"I take my words back," called Kili with his voice full of mirth. "This is _the_ funniest thing I've seen in months! Oh boy, is this funny! Fili, you should see how _constipated_ you look right now. You _both_ ate _way_ too much pea soup, if you don't mind me saying."

"_Shut up, Kili!_ Please, Thorin, let me in! It's _my turn_!"

Thorin hurried to fumble for the lock. As soon as he had managed to push the door slightly ajar, a hand slipped through the narrow gap and grasped him firmly by the front of his tunic. Fili was pulling him forcefully out of the water closet before Thorin had fully come to terms with the fact that this was Fili – alive Fili – that was shoving him out of his way. Fili stepped pass him into the closet, shooting an accusing glare at him over his shoulder.

"I will remember this," the boy threatened, banging the door closed in Thorin's face, while Kili, once more, burst out laughing.

Feeling light-headed and giddy and oh-so-hopeful of the possibility that he really might have been given another chance, Thorin simply stared at the closed door for a moment, before turning to look at his laughing nephew.

They were standing in the narrow, all too familiar hallway that lead into their (usually a bit messy) kitchen. Kili was leaning against the decorated wall, hugging himself, his whole body shaking with laughter – for Thorin who had only just believed himself dead and disgraced, it was a memorable, beautiful sight, and he eagerly drank it in.

Eventually Kili wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes and leant to ask through the water closet's door,

"Too much pea soup, brother?"

Fili's answer was immediate and full of exasperation, "Go _away_, you dimwit!"

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_A/N: So that's it. Would you like to read another chapter? :)_


	2. Of Poisonous Peas

It was the late hours of the first day of Thorin's Second Chance, and Dwalin and Balin had joined the Durins for the evening. Balin wanted to go through some details concerning the quest, while Dwalin claimed that he was there "simply for the food". Simply for the food or not, the warrior had brought his cards with him with the obvious intent on staying after dinner for a few games of troll trap, a game he and Thorin were quite fond of.

When Thorin walked into the dining room with the large tray of food, Fili and Kili were conversing with Dwalin and Balin, their jovial chatter echoing around the stone halls. There were dirty clothes on the dining room table, and Kili – looking quite guilty upon noticing where his uncle's frown was aimed at – hurried to pull the colourful pile of tunics, socks and small-clothes onto his lap under the table, out of sight. Thorin sighed to himself, lowering the tray down onto the table, flinching a bit as the movement worsened the pain in his shoulder.

Even though Thorin did not have any visible wounds to show for his participation in the battle for Erebor, it still turned out that after dying a gruesome death on a battlefield one did need some time to heal. While Thorin was honoured to have been given a Second Chance, he also felt weary like anyone would after witnessing so much mindless violence, so much death. His shoulder ached from where he had been run through with a sword by Azog, but Thorin knew that the pain was imagined, it was simply in his mind, a memory of a wound that did not exist.

Thorin had not told anyone of his experiences during the quest, nor had he said anything to anyone about being given a Second Chance by Mahal himself. He would have liked to share the knowledge with Balin and Dwalin and his sister-sons, but he knew that he could not. It was one of the rules of _grâhabunka_: if _anyone_ found out that Thorin had been given a Second Chance, then _everyone_ he had ever encountered would simultaneously become aware of it too. Everyone would regain their memory of the time they were now living through again and _grâhabunka_ would become a shared experience rather than Thorin's privilege, an advantage.

While others remembering would not have been an inconvenience when it came to the members of the Company, or dwarves in general, there were those who Thorin wished would remain ignorant of his plans and whereabouts for as long as possible. He did not want Smaug to know that they were coming, for instance, nor did he want Azog to remember their latest encounters. And if Thranduil never found out that thirteen dwarves had been forced to stay in his dungeons for quite some time, that would be just as well.

"Meat loaf!" exclaimed Dwalin with audible delight, shaking Thorin out of his thoughts. There was a grin on Dwalin's face as he reached eagerly for his plate and knife, almost knocking Fili's tankard of buttermilk over with his rushed movements. "It's worth bearing your company, Thorin, if only for the food I get for it. Tell you what – give me five slices and I'll pretend to laugh the next time you'll try to be funny."

"Sounds agreeable," mused Thorin with wry amusement, slicing a thin piece of meat loaf and placing it onto Dwalin's plate, before cutting the slice into five equally small pieces. "There you go, my friend. One, two, three, four – five slices."

"Slices, you say," Dwalin grumbled, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he hold the plate close to his face, studying the pitiful pieces. "More like buttons. I can barely see them, tiny things as they are. Though there _are_ five of them and I suppose you _tried_ to be funny by cutting them so small, so I should probably keep my side of the bargain and pretend to be amused. Here goes then: _hah hah_ – and that's all the false laughter I'm going to give you for _buttons_ like these."

"Funny you two may not be," said Balin, holding out his plate, while Thorin cut him an appropriately thick slice of meat loaf, "but I still do find myself entertained by your company. It's most peculiar."

"Peculiar?" repeated Dwalin with easy humour, gazing at Balin's slice hungrily. "Peculiar? Quite the contrary, dear brother. It's perfectly understandable to be entertained and even amused when in Thorin's company. I myself find it difficult not to burst out laughing every time he calls those flat, unimpressive things of his 'muscles'."

"If you consider my muscles 'unimpressive'," smirked Thorin, "you should be quite concerned for your own muscles, considering the way I've bested you in arm wrestling for nearly three decades straight."

"Fair enough," said Dwalin jovially, his focus shifting from Thorin to the food when Thorin put a few properly sized slices of meat loaf onto his plate, on top of the "buttons".

When Thorin leant forward, reaching out to take a hold of Kili's plate, the mild ache in his shoulder turned suddenly into stabbing pain. The sudden sharp pain caused him to double over and to almost collapse onto the table. He clutched his shoulder, gasping, placing his hand on top of the aching spot. It was the same spot where he had been run through with a sword by Azog, and while there was no wound, the pain still felt _very real_.

Unfortunately the dwarves around him didn't know that the pain was caused by a wound that did not actually exist and were thus immediately concerned to see Thorin doubling over with audible gasps of pain. While Thorin tried to breathe in a manner that minimized the movement of the muscles of his upper body, Fili and Dwalin guided him to sit onto the nearest chair.

"You're holding your shoulder," noted Fili quietly – the boy had a curious habit of stating the obvious whenever he was particularly unsettled (or excited). "It means that your shoulder is hurting."

"Aye," said Dwalin gruffly, kneeling next to Thorin, placing a hand onto Thorin's neck as if to feel the heartbeat. "The pain is not radiating to your shoulder from yer heart, is it? You don't have any chest pain, do you?"

"No, my heart is fine," gasped Thorin. "In fact, _I'm_ fine. There's no need to worry. Eat your dinner before it gets cold, all of you. I just... need a moment."

"You went awfully pale there for a while," said Balin grimly but in a kind manner. "Are you sure it's not your heart? Sudden pain like this is never a good thing, laddie, as you should well know; I think Oin should take a look at you to find out what is causing this. You haven't injured your shoulder recently, have you?"

"No," Thorin had to lie since he couldn't well tell about his less than unpleasant encounter with Azog. "But worry not. I'm certain the pain will pass in a minute or so."

"His shoulder has been aching the whole day," said Kili from where he was standing next to the table with his arms crossed, looking terribly worried. "I've noticed... I mean, he's been rubbing his shoulder every now and then ever since the afternoon. And he's been frowning. More so than usually, that is."

Thorin looked at his nephew, surprised – he had not meant for the boys to notice that he was in pain. Such observant young beings they had become. Thorin felt rather proud, though his prideful smile quickly turned into a wince of pain as his shoulder decided to remind him of its presence yet again.

"Someone really should fetch Oin," decided Balin in a calm but resolute voice, giving Fili and Kili a meaningful glance.

Fili nodded and leant down to pat Thorin's thigh reassuringly.

"I'll be back in a jiffy, Uncle," he promised. "Oin will have something to ease the pain, I'm certain. You'll just keep on breathing, all right?"

"He will," said Dwalin gruffly, "even if I have to make him do it myself."

Thorin did his best to convince everyone that he was neither injured nor ill, but they did not believe him, reminding him that they had seen his pain with their own eyes. Since Thorin could not tell them the true origin of his pain, he eventually fell silent, feeling a bit helpless, a feeling he strongly despised.

When Fili finally came back, helping Oin to carry several healer's bags – that Thorin knew contained all kinds of drugs and potions, as well as bandages and other equipment – Thorin had already resigned himself to the fact that he was not getting out of this by denying being ill, though he also knew that Oin would find nothing wrong with him. There were no wounds, after all, no injuries, no illnesses – the pain was only a memory, albeit very a real one.

Just as Thorin had suspected, Oin found nothing wrong with him, even though the old healer did examine him several times with his usual grumpy professionalism.

To ease his family and friends' concern, Thorin made up a lie and told them that he was most likely suffering from a mild food poisoning since the pain had started when he had eaten pea soup for lunch that day.

"I might have cooked them wrong," he explained, doing his best to look embarrassed. "Perhaps peas are like some mushrooms – if you don't boil them for long enough, they'll cause you some discomfort."

Peas were not commonly used by dwarves and Thorin truthfully did not know if there were any such rules, though he was certain that had Bella been there, she could have easily enlightened them on the subject. She had always claimed that hobbits knew quite a lot about vegetables, after all.

"_If_ the peas were poisonous," said Oin critically, "the pain should be located to your midsection, in your stomach, not to your shoulder. Though I have always been aware of the dangers of eating green things and it certainly could be possible that you reacted in an unsual manner to those wretched peas. The pain could be radiating to your shoulder."

"Thorin did have a stomach upset, earlier," Fili informed Oin, his expression grave. "He was in the water closet for closer to an hour this afternoon."

"And he did look a bit odd when he finally came out of there," Kili put in helpfully. "And in fact, now that I think of it, he's been rubbing his shoulder every few minutes ever since coming out of the water closet. It could well be the poisonous peas causing this!"

"Have you had any diarrhoea?" asked Oin, writing something onto his worn notebook with one hand while holding his ear trumpet with the other. "Or felt nauseous?"

"A bit of both, yes," lied Thorin through clenched teeth, now embarrassed for real. He did his best to ignore the sympathetic looks even _Dwalin_ was giving him.

"Hmm, in that case," said Oin, "the pain could be caused by the peas in all actuality. It would seem a plausible explanation, and though it is not common for the pain to radiate to shoulder from stomach, neither is it unheard of. One never knows with you Durins, unfortunately. How much of the pea soup did you digest, Thorin?"

"He ate two full bowls," said Fili immediately, much to Thorin's relief since he did not have an answer to that particular question – not that it mattered, really, as he was not suffering from a food poisoning _in all actuality_. "I ate seven and Kili had one."

"'You're not saying that all three of you ate that blasted soup, are you?" asked Dwalin and Fili and Kili admitted that, yes, that was exactly what Fili was saying. Kili hurried to add, quite worriedly, that Fili, too, had suffered from an upset stomach, though they had at the time thought that it had been caused by simply eating too much.

While Dwalin cursed and the thin line of Balin's lips thinned even more, Oin hummed under his breath, opening one of his healer's bags. He delved into it for a bit, before presenting Thorin, Fili and Kili with identical jars of something black and grainy.

"This is healing coal," he explained. "Mix it with water or milk, drink it all down and you should get gradually better. You will also need to drink a lot, preferably water, as well as to try to eat something salty to make sure that the fluids will actually be absorbed. It's _vital_ that you maintain good hydration. You will also go to bed early today. I will stay for the night, just in case the condition of one of you gets suddenly worse. You _will not_ do anything that will cause strain to your body for at least a few days. I also must say that I'm extremely disappointed in all three of you – you should know better than to eat vegetables, especially the poisonous ones. They are not good for dwarves."

"What if the boys don't have a food poisoning?" asked Thorin, because he knew for a fact that none of them did. "They haven't been in any pain, after all. Would digesting this... healing coal cause them harm?"

"Of course not," said Oin, looking slightly appalled that Thorin would even suggest such a thing. "Healing coal is harmless to anything but poison, such as poorly cooked poisonous peas. If there is no poison of any kind in one's digestive system, then the healing coal will pass through like any ordinary piece of food."

Since the healing coal would not harm his boys, Thorin decided to settle for the explanation that his sudden shoulder pain had, indeed, been caused by him eating poorly cooked peas. He had no other believable explanation at hand, not one that he could give to his friends, at least. He was not fond of lying – telling lies was not honourable – but at this moment he could see no other alternative.

"This is all my fault!" Kili burst out loud, lowering his head in a miserable, shameful manner. "I had heard of a dish called pea soup in a village of men and wanted to try it. It was I who convinced Uncle Thorin to cook it for us. This is all my fault, though I _swear_ I did not know that it would make us sick. I made Thorin ill!"

Seeing his nephew's upset state, Thorin desperately wanted to tell him that there had been nothing wrong with the soup, that it wasn't really a food poisoning that was causing the ache in his shoulder. Still, Thorin couldn't really say any of that, seeing as food poisoning was such an convenient explanation for the pain of his unreal wound.

"Do not blame yourself, my boy," he said instead, reaching a hand to grasp Kili gently by the wrist. "None of us knew that this would happen. There is no-one to blame. Accidents happen. _This is not your fault_."

"Nevertheless, I'm _so sorry_ that I laughed at you and Fili earlier," Kili said sincerely, placing his other hand on top of Thorin's. "Had I known that you two were suffering from a food poisoning, I would not have found the situation amusing in the slightest."

Thorin gave Kili's hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go.

Wordlessly, Dwalin took the jars of healing coal from the three Durins, while Balin and Oin ushered Thorin and his sister-sons to bed. Fili offered to assist Thorin in his movements, but Thorin found that the pain in his shoulder had dulled enough for him to move unassisted. Both of his nephews still remained close to him, subtly, just in case.

Due to Thorin's insistence, they went to Fili and Kili's bedchamber first, lighting the blue lanterns that Thorin had hung onto the walls to make the small chamber more livable. Balin placed Kili's pile of dirty clothes onto the desk, moving Fili's book of algebra carefully out of his way, while Oin added a few logs into the fireplace, blowing on the glowing embers. Soon a cosy fire was crackling in the fireplace, warming the room, giving Dis' smiling portrait on the wall a soft, orange shade.

The boys changed into their night-clothes in a worried silence. Thorin was the only one who knew that there was nothing wrong with any of them, but not even he felt the need to make some pointless conversation. Instead, he moved around the chamber, mindful of his shoulder, picking up things from the floor and putting them into their places. He folded fallen clothes and used the toe of his boot to straighten out the crumpled wolf skins that covered the floor, the skins of the wolves that he had killed by himself.

Kili's sword, attached to a belt, was hanging on the bedpost, and Thorin moved it onto the weapon's stand, next to Fili's weapons. He made no comment on the correct way to storage weapons; he knew that Kili was chastised just from Thorin seeing the weapon in a place where it was not supposed to be.

Once the boys were under the sheets, Dwalin came in with the three tankards. Grudgingly, Thorin forced himself to drink the healing coal Dwalin had mixed into his tankard of milk. The white milk had turned into a disgusting shade of dark grey, and drinking the liquid was like swallowing gravelly mud, but eventually Thorin had managed to empty his tankard. Fili and Kili followed their uncle's example, emptying their tankards bravely, while Thorin felt absolutely horrible for making his boys go needlessly through it all.

After all three of them had drunk their share of the healing coal, Oin informed them that now they could do "nothing but wait" and see whether any of the Durins would become worse. Thorin wished the boys a quiet goodnight and went to his own chamber, followed closely by Balin, while Oin and Dwalin stayed with Fili and Kili to observe them.

"I had hoped that we could discuss about the quest," said Balin, once they entered Thorin's practically furnished chamber, "but, under the circumstances, I think it is better if we leave the discussions for another day. I will, nevertheless, give the signed contracts for you to peruse."

Balin fished a neat pile of parchments out of the inside pocket of his red coat and handed it over to Thorin.

"Ten signed contracts, laddie, thus far."

Thorin browsed through the parchments, noting with delight the familiar signatures of the brothers Ri and Ur, as well as Oin, Gloin, Balin and Dwalin.

"I know it's not much," Balin said carefully, "but it certainly is better than nothing. And we don't yet know what the dwarves of the Iron Hills will say. They might well join us. We still have time to try to talk to them."

Thorin had found out that the Company was supposed to leave for the quest (for the second time) in two months. He would have to leave a month earlier, as he had to go see Dain and other dwarf lords to try to convince them for the relevance of reclaiming Erebor. Thorin already knew that the outcome of the meeting would not be to his liking, but he still had to go. It would raise questions if he did not go and questions were one thing he was now trying to avoid.

"I made contracts for Fili and Kili too," continued Balin when Thorin didn't say anything. "I was going to ask them to sign them tonight, but we can do that later when they're feeling better. There's no rush – the burglar that Gandalf will find for us has not yet even seen his contract, after all, so we can wait for a few days for the boys to sign theirs. As long as they sign before we leave, everything will be in order."

"Thank you, Balin," said Thorin, giving the contracts back to Balin for safe-keeping. "I do not know what I would do without you and Dwalin."

Thorin hadn't really meant to say that last part out loud and after he realized that he had, indeed, said it, he found himself flustering. He wasn't good at putting feelings to words, nor were he eager to practise that particular skill, as things tended to get terribly awkward whenever he got emotional. Balin was thankfully more composed when it came to these kinds of... declarations, for he simply inclined his head to accept the words, not commenting on them further. If his eyes glistened a bit, neither one of them mentioned it.

Once Thorin was resting in his bed, rubbing his aching shoulder, Dwalin came in with his cards. They proceeded to play troll trap, and managed to play quite a few rounds with the cards spread out on the sheets, before Oin popped in to check on Thorin. Balin used the situation to his advantage and went to teach algebra to Fili and Kili which, from the sounds of it, seemed to delight Fili, but not so much Kili.

All three Durins survived the night without notable incidents, though Thorin's shoulder kept aching – he lied and said that it was getting better. At noon the next day, Oin declared all three of them "more or less healthy" and out of "immediate danger". Fili and Kili left bed as soon as they heard the news, telling anyone who cared listen that they were _starving_ and _bored out of their minds_.

In the course of the next few days, Thorin wasn't allowed to do much, so much his sudden fit of pain had scared those around him. He still did consider his time very well spent: he spent three enjoyable days with Fili and Kili, resting and healing from the battle no-one around him even knew had occurred, and plainly just enjoyed the time he had with his sister-sons.

Fili and Kili were obviously enjoying their family time as well if their bright eyes, easy grins and delighted looks were anything to go by. On the fourth day of Thorin's _grâhabunka_, the happy family time of the Durins culminated when Thorin bought the three of them tickets to _The Wisest of Elves_. It was a play, written and directed by Radir Burgir, an old rune singer whose comical works all three Durins greatly enjoyed. It was difficult to tell who was more excited, Fili, Kili and Thorin for getting to see the play or the actors for having royalty in the audience.

As Thorin watched his nephews laughing, as the actor – who wore accentuatedly large and pointy artificial ears – did his best to woo a tree only to be turned down time after time, he had to wonder how he ever could have thought the gold in Erebor to be his true treasure. He loved Fili and Kili like nothing and no-one else. He had cared for them for all these decades after Dis' death, after their own disgrace of a father had foolishly abandoned them, and while he had not sired them, they were his sons in every other sense. Fili and Kili, his boys, _they_ were his true treasure, not all the riches in the treasury of Erebor.

There, sitting in the dark theatre, flanked on both sides by warm, breathing bodies of his sister-sons, Thorin came to the decision that he would not risk his true treasure for the second time. This time he would not allow Fili and Kili to accompany him on the quest, no matter how they would protest, no matter how memorable it would have been for him to reclaim Erebor with his two heirs by his side. No, Fili and Kili would stay in Ered Luin and thus they would live, regardless of the outcome of the quest, of the battle that would occur afterwards.

Satisfied with his decision, Thorin never even suspected that his true treasure had already made a careful plan just in case he would refuse to take them with him. Fili and Kili always obeyed their uncle out of respect, after all, and so Thorin had no reason to think that this time would be any different. He never considered the possibility that Fili and Kili would, for once, disobey him.

Thorin's mistake was to underestimate how dedicated the princes were to him, how much they really loved him: while Thorin had not sired them, they still considered him their father in every other sense, just like Thorin thought them his sons. Where Thorin had only just realized that his family and friends were what he _truly_ valued, Fili and Kili had always thought their small family to be the most important thing they had, and so they were reluctant to let their unit of three to separate. They were unshakeable in their decision to follow their uncle to Erebor. If Thorin needed to face a dragon, they _would_ face it with him; it was not a decision, it was how it was.

Since Thorin had eventually allowed Fili and Kili to accompany him when he left on the quest for the first time, he had never found out about the carefully hidden supplies, nor had he ever even suspected that the lads had been saving money for years, ever since they had first heard of Thorin's plans to reclaim Erebor. If it turned out that they would have to follow Thorin in secret on their own, Fili and Kili were ready and prepared to buy ponies and to properly equip themselves by themselves.

_Grâhabunka_ or not, Thorin did not know everything.

* * *

_A/N: I hope that Oin doesn't sound too thick for believing that Thorin's shoulder pain could be caused by peas. Most dwarves are simply very, very, very suspicious of vegetables, conservative ones even more so. Peas could be the source of all that is evil for all they know. :P_

_Anyway, as usual, it would be great to hear your thoughts!_


	3. Fireworks

_A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who left me a comment! It's great to have feedback. You've really made my day._

* * *

When Fili and Kili found out that Thorin would not allow them to join his Company, they did not hesitate to voice their protests. First the princes tried to reason with Thorin, putting the skills of diplomacy they had practised with Balin to good use.

"You _can't_ fight a dragon with swords and axes," Fili claimed. "It was tried once and it didn't work. You _need_ an _archer_, Thorin, and a good one at that. You won't find a better archer than Kili and you know it. If Kili is not there with you, who's going to shoot Smaug? You really haven't thought this through."

Thorin had thought it through, and so he was unmoved by Fili's arguments: Since Kili's arm had been injured the last time they had reached Erebor, he had failed to shoot Smaug. In the end it had been the bowman Bard who had earned the name "Dragon Slayer". Thorin was confident that the bowman could kill Smaug again, if Thorin himself – or Dwalin, possibly – didn't manage to do it before him. Now that Thorin knew that there was an unprotected spot on Smaug's chest, his chances of shooting the worm were that much higher.

"And besides," Kili hurried to add when it became apparent that Thorin wasn't going to say anything, "you need someone loyal to have your back. I know Dwalin will be there, but he has his own brother to watch over, too, and so he simply cannot guard you at all times. Fili and I, on the other hand, would dedicate ourselves to watching your back. If it ever came to it, we wouldn't hesitate to die to protect you – in fact, it would be an honour to die protecting you, Uncle."

"And there you have the exact reason why I'm not taking you with me," grumbled Thorin. "I don't want either one of you to die for me, I don't want you to _break a nail_ to protect me. Your safety is of utmost importance."

He tried to find something more to say, but words failed him in his time of need and eventually all he could do was to stare at the firework rocket that he had on the desk in front of him. He considered the conversation to be over, but unfortunately his sister-sons disagreed.

"_Your_ safety is of utmost importance!"

"Do not raise your voice when talking to me," Thorin reprimanded Kili, giving his sister-sons such a disapproving look that they would not have dared to utter another word under ordinary circumstances. Unfortunately for Thorin, these were not ordinary circumstances, and so both boys simply raised their chins in a defiant manner.

"How can you expect us to stay behind?" asked Fili and Thorin could hear disbelief, hurt and barely contained anger in his older nephew's voice. "How can you tell us to stay here when you're going to go _fight a dragon_? We will not let you go without us! We are of age, we can make our own decisions – you _cannot_ make us stay."

"I can and I will. You are _not_ coming with me. You will both stay here, untill I send for you. This is my final decision and I will not be swayed."

"For _grûck's_ sake, Thorin!" cried Kili, making a sharp gesture with his hand. "Be reasonable!"

"Mind your language, boy," Thorin said gruffly, "and do not think you can give me orders. I'm not only your uncle but also your king, I demand your respect."

"But it would be madness to leave us behind!"

"I have made my decision. I will not hear another word from you two."

Fights and arguments were not that unusual at the Durins, but the fight that ensued from Thorin's words was one of which kind had never before been witnessed in the lodgings of Thorin Oakenshield. Afterwards, Fili didn't speak to Thorin for several days, while Kili closed doors with loud bangs and glared at Thorin whenever their eyes met. Kili also kept addressing "His Highness" in an emphasizingly formal manner, springing up to his feet to give deep bows every time Thorin entered or left the room.

Despite of upsetting his nephews, Thorin didn't regret his decision not to let them join the Company. They were simply far too precious to be put between him and Azog yet again. In Ered Luin they would be safe.

Fortunately for him, Thorin found a steady supporter in Balin who made his approval of Thorin's decision quite clear. Dwalin, on the other hand, kept pressuring Thorin to "give the lads a chance", for they had trained persistently for the quest. Last time, it _had_ been Dwalin who had convinced Thorin to let Fili and Kili to make their own decisions, to let them join the Company, but this time Thorin was relentless.

"I want the lads be safe too, Thorin, believe me," said Dwalin, "but they could be of use, couldn't they. They're in their prime, they're quick, they're capable – they would fight by your side whenever I would not be able to."

It seemed that Dwalin agreed with Kili's earlier argument; Dwalin would protect Balin, too, which meant that his attention would be divided, at times, and so he wanted Fili and Kili to join the Company to make sure that Thorin was protected as well as simply possible.

"I will not risk my boys for my own protection," Thorin stated firmly.

They looked at each other in the eye for a long, steady while, but then Dwalin's shoulders slumped in resignation. He rubbed his tattooed head, giving Thorin an uncharacteristically helpless look.

"I wish you would reconsider, but I can see from your eyes that you will not," the warrior said, letting out a sigh. "Very well, then. We'll have to make do."

"We always do, my friend. We always do."

"Aye," said Dwalin, sighing again.

Thorin didn't have too much time to worry about upsetting his sister-sons, as the following days, the twenty days before his departure, were very full and busy. He worked at the forge and put as much money aside for Fili and Kili as he simply could, so that the boys would have something with which to buy food and other necessary items. He also made certain that Fili and Kili could continue working with Weapons Master Hurdil for as long as she needed two apprentices, or for as long as it would take for Thorin to send for his heirs.

With his heart at ease with the knowledge that the future of his nephews was secured for at least a few years, Thorin could finally focus his mind on other things. There was some arranging left to do, such as inspecting the travel supplies, replacing some items while keeping others, and going to see the ponies that Dwalin had chosen for the Company. Thorin chose one of the brown ones for himself, and while he claimed that he did not to care for such things, he still named the animal "Minty". Again.

Thorin also went to visit all ten members of his Company, making sure to discuss with every one of them about the quest as well as things in general. It was nice to see them in their familiar surroundings, at their homes, though the sight did make Thorin feel regretful for having to take them with him to face Smaug, to face Azog, to face Thranduil.

Ori, in particular, was just as he had been the first time around, shy and innocent. He probably did not fully understand how dangerous the quest he had signed to take part in actually was – Thorin had noted his naivety the first time around, of course, but it wasn't until now that he felt guilty about taking the boy with him. Ori was barely older than Fili and Kili, after all, and much less experienced in combat than either one of them. Still, there was determination in Ori's eyes and Thorin did know how capable the scribe would become in the course of the quest. Ori was loyal and he did have a willing heart – Thorin still could ask no more.

The rest of his time Thorin spent locked in his chamber, working on a secret project.

The day before his argument with Fili and Kili, Thorin had went and bought a box full of firework rockets from the village of men. Dwarves weren't all that familiar with fireworks and the first time Thorin had ever even heard of them had been in the darkness of Thranduil's dungeons. It had been Bella who had told Thorin about fireworks, her kind face pressed between the bars to see Thorin better and to allow Thorin to see her better. Bella had tried to distract Thorin from the pressing darkness all around them, describing how beautiful fireworks were when they lighted a night sky. She had told him about their different colours and the loud sounds they made, her eyes sparkling from the joyful memories.

Bella had also mentioned how some of the fireworks – lighted by some relative of Bella's at a birthday party of some cousin or another (Thorin couldn't recall any names, though he wasn't particularly bothered about that) – had once strayed from their path. The fireworks had hit an abandoned hen house and the whole thing had burst into flames with a small explosion. Bella had shook her head at the memory, while Thorin had wished that some hobbit would burst _Thranduil_ into flames with some fireworks.

After they had escaped from the elves, Thorin had thought about the curious fireworks every now and then. He had talked about them with Bella a couple of times, but it wasn't until now that he was finally able to actually study one.

It wasn't that Thorin was interested in making pretty, colourful patterns in the sky. No, not at all. He was more fascinated by the explosions: if hobbits had fireworks that were powerful enough to make a whole hen house burst into flames, could those same fireworks be destructive enough to be used as weapons against Azog – that was what Thorin wanted to find out. He wanted to find out whether or not he could make fireworks powerful enough to kill.

He began his study by cutting some of the fireworks carefully open. He found peculiar, unknown substances, and in the village of men, he was told that the substances were called "rùti" – which was the substance that caused the explosions – and "väri" which gave the explosions their beautiful colours.

Equipped with his new-found knowledge, Thorin returned to the mountain and began experimenting. First, he separated rùti from väri. Then he lighted a small amount of the rùti to find out what kind of an explosion it would cause – in hindsight, with his burnt hands in a bowl of cool water, he decided he should have stood further away, though he was also quite delighted to see how powerful even the tiny amount of rùti had been, how much damage it had caused, for he now knew for a fact that with a large amount of rùti, he could make a powerful weapon.

And – after several failed attempts – a powerful weapon Thorin did make. He put half of all the remaining rùti in one small bag. He then added a fuse to the bag and tied the whole thing onto a spear. Under cover of night, Thorin then left the mountain and went to a near-by forest to test his rùti spear. He chose the testing area carefully, making sure that he could take cover behind large rocks, since he didn't want to get caught in the explosion which he assumed would be quite powerful. For his target he chose a thick log. He threw the log into a pool of water, as he didn't want to cause a wildfire with his weapon experimenting.

Once everything was ready, Thorin took his place behind the rocks, lighted the fuse with the help of the lantern he had brought with him, aimed his throw and threw the spear into the log. Quickly, he then ducked behind the rocks. There was a loud explosion and a bright light coming from the other side of the rocks, followed closely after by thick smoke – then everything went silent. Standing up to his feet, cautiously, Thorin took a peek from his cover: most of the log had disappeared while the rest of it was burning.

For his next try a few nights later, Thorin added nails and small pieces of metal into his bag of rùti which he then tied to another spear. After seeing the result of this explosion, Thorin hoped with passion that he would eventually have a chance to use this new, powerful weapon on Azog.

He never noticed his wide-eyed nephews from where they were spying on him from the shadows of a large rock.

* * *

_A/N: Considering the way the weapons in Middle Earth seemed pretty much the same when folks fought against the Sauron who was wearing a suit of armour and then, a thousand years later, against the Sauron who was a fiery eyeball, I thought that it was time for some middle-earther to invent a new weapon. Thorin probably won't use his rùti spear (& rùti arrows?) that much (because of Gandalf and his morals) but hey, at least there was some weapon upgrading happening.  
_

_I do apologize for my lack of knowledge when it comes to fireworks and exploding things. I did make some research, but "how to make a bomb" isn't necessarily something I want to have on my search history._

_But hey wait, what's that empty box under this story? *hint hint* ;)  
_


	4. Meetings and Farewells

Fili and Kili were angry at Thorin for eight full days, though neither one of them openly challenged him again after their initial confrontation. In the ninth day Kili finally stopped slamming doors and giving Thorin mocking bows, adopting his brother's silent approach instead. A few days later, two of the three Durins still weren't talking to the third Durin, though their silence was now caused by worry and shame rather than rebellion.

Fili and Kili were ashamed of shouting at Thorin, though neither one of them regretted doing so, justified as they considered their actions to be in this one instance. Nevertheless, justified or not, it didn't change the fact that they had been disrespectful towards their uncle, Kili even more so with his mocking bows. If Dis had managed to teach his sons one thing before her premature death, it was to "always respect Uncle Thorin", thus showing disrespect to Thorin was usually unthinkable and always made the boys feel guilty.

Thorin, on his part, had no idea that worry and concern had overcome Fili and Kili's anger, and thus he tossed and turned on his bed till the first hours of the morning each night, feeling resolute with his decisions but also quite alone and miserable. He missed his sister-sons terribly, and though they were just on the other side of the wall, the distance felt much greater to Thorin. Thorin wished that the three of them could have spent their last days together in a happier way, but if keeping his boys safe meant that they would part in angry terms... well, it would be a tolerable price, if not a pleasant one.

Unknown to Thorin, Fili and Kili missed him too, and so all three Durins had a heavy heart. They wished to make up quite desperately, but none of them knew how to proceed, they simply didn't know how to approach the situation. Fili and Kili were too ashamed to look their uncle in the eye, while Thorin didn't know what to say since words had failed him once again.

With Thorin's day of departure rapidly approaching, Fili and Kili grew all the more scared for their uncle. They worried for his well-being on the quest, for his future, for his life. While Thorin tossed and turned in his chamber, Fili and Kili stayed up late in theirs, making plans on how to follow the Company without being noticed, how to be close enough to get involved if Thorin's safety was compromised. Once they even followed Thorin out in the night, just to see if it could be done, only to witness a great explosion caused by Thorin's _spear_. Afterwards, Fili refused to speak about what they had seen, claiming that it must have been one of their shared dreams since _spears did not explode in real life_, while Kili stood firmly behind his theory that Thorin had somehow figured out how to make alder explode – Thorin himself remained oblivious to this particular argument of his sister-sons'.

Three days before Thorin was going to leave to meet Dain, Gandalf came to Ered Luin. While Thorin had considered Gandalf's visit quite unexpected the first time around, he had now known to wait for it, though he still did his best to appear surprised. Gandalf was, after all, very knowledgeable – some would even call him intelligent and observant – and if Thorin acted out of character in his presence or knew something that he was not yet supposed to know, there was a great chance of Gandalf becoming suspicious and suspicious wizards were never convenient to have around when one was trying to keep a secret. It was possible that Gandalf could realize that Thorin had been granted a _grâhabunka_, and Gandalf finding out would lead to Azog, Smaug and Thranduil finding out, instantaneously. This was a worrying possibility that Thorin could not ignore. He was determined to take all the precautions to prevent Gandalf from finding out.

After carefully considering his options, Thorin came to the decision that the best way to prevent Gandalf from finding out about the _grâhabunka_ was to keep him distracted from noticing potential peculiarities in Thorin's behaviour. The most effective way to distract Gandalf, Thorin had found out, was to infuriate him. Making Gandalf indignant and frustrated at him would not be a hardship to Thorin, considering the way they hadn't got that well along in the first place. Most of the time Thorin would behave like he normally did, but whenever necessary, he'd just have to do his best to infuriate the wizard.

Trying to behave in his normal manner, Thorin now invited the wizard to stay at his home, just like he had done the last time.

And just like the last time, Gandalf accepted the offer.

And just like the last time, Thorin regretted offering, come evening, since it turned out that Gandalf was just as trying the second time around.

* * *

They sat in the dining room, Thorin and Gandalf, talking about the quest and the news Gandalf had brought from the west. Well, Thorin tried to talk about them, but since dwarves were often quite literal with their speech, he didn't quite understand all the figures of speech Gandalf used. While the wizard could occasionally be quite useful and his company, at times, somewhat tolerable, his inability to speak intelligibly and to use common dwarven idioms instead of the foreign ones when in Thorin's presence, set Thorin's teeth on edge. One might have assumed, Thorin thought irritably, that one of the Maiar would have learnt to communicate properly in the course of all their years. But no, it was almost as if the wizard was trying Thorin's patience on purpose – even just the possibility of that was enough to make Thorin feel indignant.

After Gandalf heard that Fili and Kili would not be joining the Company, he suggested that perhaps it was the time for Thorin to allow his sister-sons to "leave the nest". This suggestion was one too many figures of speech to Thorin's liking.

"_Nest?_" he snapped, while Gandalf puffed at his pipe. "_Allow_ to leave the _nest_? You dare allege that I'm keeping _my own heirs imprisoned_? In a _nest_? Surely you jest."

Gandalf blinked and turned to look at Thorin, breathing out the smoke he had only just inhaled, the expression on his face quite bewildered, if also amused.

"I meant no offence, my good dwarf," he claimed. "I simply wished to bring my earnest opinion to your attention."

"And what _is_ your _earnest_ opinion? That my nephews should be treated like _birds_?"

Gandalf hummed in a pondering manner, frowning slightly, before continuing to smoke his pipe.

"To some essence, yes," he said eventually, "though that is not what I originally meant at all. Nevertheless, birds are free to fly as they like to, as your nephews should be: Fili and Kili are both of age, young though they still may be. Perhaps you should allow them to try their own wings, so to speak – perhaps you should allow them to join the Company if that is their wish. They would be an asset to you, Thorin. I'm sure of it."

"Dwarves are mountain-dwellers," said Thorin haughtily, "thus we are not in possession of _wings_. We _cannot fly_ unaided."

"Well," mused Gandalf, "I did say 'so to speak'."

Their conversation followed pretty much the same line, untill Thorin had finally had enough. Satisfied for having already made Gandalf a bed onto the dining room table – the only surface large enough for Gandalf, apart from the cold floor – Thorin left the dining room, frustrated, wishing Gandalf a pleasant night in a stiff and indignant but nevertheless dignified manner.

The next day, after breakfast, Thorin sent Fili and Kili to Master Hurdil, reminding them that he expected them to be industrious when learning Master Hurdil's craft. The boys did leave, though rather grudgingly, as they would have prefered to participate in the meeting of the Company, even if they weren't allowed to be a part of the Company itself.

In the afternoon, all ten members of the Company came to meet Thorin and Gandalf. Once Gandalf had moved the mattresses aside, everyone gathered around the dining room table. The atmosphere was full of eager nervousness and Thorin poured his guests just enough ale to make the tension go away but not enough to affect their judgement.

Thorin was nervous himself – to be suddenly surrounded by people with whom he had escaped elven dungeons; with whom he had faced a dragon and an army of orcs; who he considered his friends, a part of his true treasure; who had no idea what they had been through together in the past year...

Thorin felt the need, even stronger than before, to tell the Company about the _grâhabunka_. He wanted to let them know that they were good friends, brothers-in-arms, but once again he held his tongue. They would become brothers-in-arms again, one day, but for now Thorin had to be patient, careful, cautious.

Ori – with his hands trembling slightly – spilled some of his drink over the sleeves of his brown coat as he took the offered tankard from Thorin. With a pinched look upon his face, Dori snatched the tankard from his blushing little brother and pushed it under Nori's nose, before proceeding to wipe Ori's hands and sleeves with a piece of yellow linen.

Thorin froze at the sight of the cloth. He had seen that particular cloth many times in the course of the quest. The last time he had seen it, he had been mortally wounded and carried pass by the Ri brothers on a stretcher. The usually light linen had been bright red and Nori had been holding it against Dori's cheek, trying to gauge the bleeding, while Ori had stood over his brothers, guarding them with a dented shield in his blood-stained hands.

Swallowing hard against the onslaught of the unpleasant memories, Thorin finished his round of pouring ale.

The Company's meeting went on just as it had the last time. Gandalf told them briefly about Bella – "the burglar, a hobbit, Mistress Baggins" – and gave them written instructions on how to find her smial, promising them a hearty meal. Just like the last time, Gandalf then proceeded to describe how wary hobbits could be of large amounts of strange people appearing to their home at once, and how important it thus was for the dwarves to arrive either in small groups or one by one, or else she might not allow them in at all.

As the Company began to argue about who should be allowed to go meet the burglar first, Thorin was reminded of the way they had approached Beorn's home in small groups, a few minutes apart from each other. He hadn't noted it before, but they had done pretty much the same thing with Bella. He found the thought almost as amusing as appalling.

Eventually the meeting came to an end with Balin summarizing all the important parts. Thorin didn't really listen to Balin's review of the meeting since he was already familiar with it all.

Once it was just Thorin and Gandalf in the dining room again, Fili and Kili came back home, red-faced and sweating as if they had been running the whole way from Master Hurdil's. They were extremely disappointed for having missed the Company, and since they still weren't really talking to Thorin, they retreated to their chamber soon after dinner.

Which left Thorin alone with Gandalf. Again.

Which became rather awkward after a while.

* * *

At dawn of the day of Thorin's departure, the atmosphere at the Durins was gloomy. Fili and Kili had woken up early to make Thorin breakfast and all three of them took it as the gesture of reconciliation it was meant to be. They ate in silence, though Gandalf tried to cheer them up with amusing stories about his past.

When it was finally the time to go, Thorin embraced his sister-sons and whispered his farewells in their ears. He promised to send for them as soon as he could, and many other things he promised as well. There were tears in his eyes, as he gazed at his true treasure one last time, before turning away and following Gandalf out of the front door. He believed it to be years before he would see his boys again – if they would meet in this life time again at all, that was.

"Well," said Dwalin, once he, Thorin, Balin and Gandalf were standing at the opening of the mountain, "I suppose Balin and I will see you both at the burglar's, then. Hopefully accompanied by an army from the Iron Hills, eh, Thorin?"

"Oh, laddie," sighed Balin, twiddling nervously with a silver bead on his beard. "If only you would remember to be _polite_ when meeting the Eight Lords. _Don't_ yell, or lose your patience. And for Eru's sake, Thorin – try not to challenge anyone to a duel this time."

"But if you do," Dwalin hurried to add, "make sure to do it properly: to the death, or not at all. If someone is foolish enough to want to fight you for real, you _must_ make an example of them."

* * *

Gandalf and Thorin travelled together for almost a week, but then their ways separated, for the time being. Thorin was quite satisfied to see the grey, pointy hat disappearing in the distance, knowing that Gandalf hadn't found out about the _grâhabunka_.

At least not yet.

* * *

The meeting with the lords of the Iron Hills went just as Thorin had known it would. He was told – again – that trying to reclaim Erebor was "utter madness" and not one of the "greater concerns at the present time", though Dain did promise – once again – that he would help with the rebuilding if ever Thorin got that far with his quest.

Thorin was annoyed to hear the responses to his case, but he managed to hide his disappointed frustration quite a lot better than the last time. He only challenged one of the lords to a duel, after all, and not even one to the death – which would have disappointed both sons of Fundin, though for different reasons, had they been there.

Before Thorin left the Iron Hills, he presented Dain with his will. After reading the will, with a peculiar look upon his face, Dain gave Thorin his solemn word that the will would be kept safe – and followed through, if necessary.

This time, Thorin was going to keep his people safe even from himself.

Once Thorin was finished with his business in the Iron Hills, he began the journey to the Shire where he knew the sweetest being in all of Middle Earth would await him.

* * *

_A/N: Well, dwarves can be slow to forget and to forgive, but considering how old they can live, Fili&Kili and Thorin's fight didn't last for _that _long. I hope this chapter wasn't too confusing to read, btw!_

_Thank you for the reviews! I do enjoy writing, but it's always nicer to write when I know that someone is really reading. :)_


	5. The Second First Meeting

Thorin altered his route to the Shire just the slightest bit to avoid the more fertile areas which, he now knew from experience, were infested with hungry mosquitoes. As a result of this, he had to kill eight orcs which was two orcs more than the last time he had ridden the route from the Iron Hills to the Shire. Six of the orcs that he killed were nothing but ravenous fools after what they thought would be an easy prey, but two of the orcs would have managed to creep up on Thorin under cover of night hadn't their foul smell betrayed them just in time for him to draw his dagger and to roll out of the way of their sharp blades. After the ensuing fight, Thorin cut off the orcs' heads and placed their rinking bodies onto an open area where they could be easily spotted, where they would warn any unsuspecting travellers – the heads he put on the black swords as a warning to other orcs.

Once Thorin reached Bree and found himself a place to stay for the night, he was finally able to wash himself. He paid for a laundress to scrub the blood off his clothes, and even though some dull stains remained, Thorin paid the apologetic woman as generously as his tight budget permitted, assuring her that it didn't really matter. These weren't the first stains on his travel clothes, nor would they be the last.

Later, as Thorin sat in a tavern, using a bent fork to eat dry fish for a late dinner, he was approached by three women who inquired whether he wanted company for the night in exchange of a coin. All three women wore dresses that left their breasts in a clear view of anyone who wanted to look, and while they swayed their hips and leant over the table in a seductive manner to make sure that Thorin had a good view of their cleavages, their eyes were empty and the smiles on their faces frozen.

Looking at the prostitutes, Thorin was reminded of those ordinary dwarves – mothers, sisters, fathers, brothers – who travelled to villages of men to sell themselves to be able to buy food for their families. Those desperate dwarves had chosen the lives of their loved ones over their own pride, over their dignity. They were doing their best to survive, and as their king, it was Thorin's _duty and responsibility_ to give them and their children a brighter future. It certainly wasn't for the Arkenstone that Thorin was going to take the Company to fight Smaug – it was for his people, for the future of dwarves, and Thorin could only hope that the beauty of the Arkenstone would not make him forget it, again.

"You think too much, handsome," cooed the youngest-looking of the women, playing with her yellow hair. "Why don't you let Honey Bun help you to forget whatever it is that is so weighing your mind..."

Thorin didn't take Honey Bun up for her offer, nor the other two women, though he did ask for directions to the Shire and gave them a few coins, each, for the information he already had.

The next day, Thorin woke up early, and thus he was in Hobbiton almost two hours before he was supposed to be there, two hours before he had been there the last time. He managed to find the stable that rented out carriages and was able to convince the owner – again – to let Minty stay in the safety of the stable till the next morning. The owner, a young hobbit lass, charged for the hay, but gave the pony a troughful of fresh water herself. After brushing Minty and making sure that she had all that she could possibly need, Thorin left the stable.

Thorin wandered between the smials, looking at the rolling hills, assessing everything he saw. Just like the last time he had been here, it didn't take long at all for him to come to the conclusion that he didn't particularly like the Shire. The area was too open, too unprotected, the homes too small and cramped. There was no stone to speak of and the few rocks that he could see were of poor quality. For the life of him, Thorin couldn't understand why anyone would _choose_ to live in such a vulnerable, defenceless place of their own free will. The only bright side was that soon Thorin would save Bella from there. Never again would she have to live in this exposed area, if it depended on Thorin.

The thought of Bella cheered Thorin up considerably. He longed to go the her, to see her kind heart reflected in her bright eyes, to see her smile, to hear her voice, to speak to her, to talk with her...

Of course, Thorin reminded himself with regret, this Bella didn't yet even know him. As far as Bella was concerned, they were strangers to each other, and would yet be for some time. It wouldn't do for Thorin to be too familiar with her, as he didn't want to scare her off. He would build their relationship again, gradually, from anew.

This time, Thorin would be kind to Bella from the beginning. Thorin had never been particularly nice, but kind he was, at least to those who he cared about. And he did care about Bella, quite a lot, in fact. His feelings went much deeper than simple lust (though he could have easily found his release with only Bella's generous curves in his mind). Thorin dared even claim – if only to himself – that he was slowly falling in love with her, had been falling in love with her ever since she had first found him in the darkness of the elven dungeons.

Thorin wasn't opposed to the idea of making Bella his queen. He rather liked the idea of waking up to her face every morning for the rest of his life, of her ruling beside him. If the quest went well, Thorin would ask for the permission to court her officially, but till then he would settle for rebuilding their friendship, for seeking her affections, her favour.

Whilst thinking this, Thorin had drifted to the more familiar part of Hobbiton. To his surprise, he now found himself standing in front of a round, green door that bore the burglar's mark, as if Mahal himself had been guiding his steps. That was a real possibility, since Thorin certainly couldn't claim that he knew his way around the area, not even the second time around.

Bella's smial was quiet, but the glow of candles shone through the windows, lighting the yard that was gradually being embraced by the twilight of the evening. It was still almost an hour before Dwalin was supposed to be there, let alone Thorin himself.

Placing his hand flat against the wooden surface of the door, Thorin contemplated the situation. He wondered if he should wait, if he should be the last one to arrive like the last time, or whether he could make Bella's acquaintance right away. He was eager to re-introduce himself, but what if he ruined everything by doing or saying something foolish? Would she eventually refuse to join the Company if Thorin was the first dwarf to arrive to her smial? Thorin wasn't that reliable when it came to social interaction and he could easily ruin everything with a poor first impression of himself and of the Company.

The image of Bella's terrified face suddenly appeared in Thorin's mind. While the time he had spent under the dragon sickness was hazy to Thorin, he recalled holding Bella by the throat, threatening to throw her off the wall for the theft of the Arkenstone. The memory horrified Thorin more than he cared to admit. He was ashamed of and disgusted at his actions before the battle, at his weakness, and swore to himself that he would rather leap to his own death than to assault Bella like that again.

To calm himself Thorin reminded himself of his will. He _had_ signed it and given a copy to Dain. No-one would suffer because of him, even if he was to succumb to the dragon sickness once more.

Somewhat reassured, Thorin dared to raise his hand and made to knock on the round green door only to withdraw his fist just as it was about to come to contact with the wooden surface.

"For Eru's sake, Thorin," he then chided himself, muttering, though he was far too nervous for the words to have any real heat behind them.

Staring at the door as if willing for it to open on its own, Thorin clenched and unclenched his fists, before finally he forced himself to slam his fist against the door, twice. They were loud knocks, a lot louder than he had meant for them to be, and they left his hand aching. Still, they seemed to do the trick, as only a few moments later he heard the door being unbolted. Soon the door was pushed open.

"For the last time, Otho – I _don't care_ if Lobelia _thinks_ she can 'borrow' my-"

The exasperated sentence came to an abrupt end, and then, finally, Bella Baggins stood right there in front of Thorin, just on the other side of the threshold, mere feet away.

And oh, was she lovely! _She was lovely_, even lovelier than she had been the last time Thorin had seen her. Gone were the signs of the battle, of the quest and all the hardships that had come with it. Bella didn't show any signs of starving in Mirkwood, nor did she look like she had been recently crying for a dying king. If anything, Bella Baggins was a picture of contentment itself – last time that had annoyed Thorin indescribably, but now the sight had a completely opposite effect on him.

Bella's green eyes shone in the twilight as if she was surprised and slightly startled to see Thorin, instead of some relative of hers, standing there at her front door. Her kind face was clean, her cheeks of a healthy pink colour instead of the ghastly white they had been after the battle for Erebor. Her lips were wet and slightly open and, Eru, _red like rubellite_. Thorin had noticed that the last time, of course, but he hadn't really noted it, not like he did now.

Enchanted, Thorin let his gaze trail down the smooth skin of her throat, down to the laces on the front of her nightgown. The coppery veil of her curly hair flowed over her shoulders, all the way down to her elbows, over her generous curves. The shape of her full breasts was clearly visible through her thin nightgown, as were the two unmistakable, pink circles – they were her rubies, hardened by the cool evening air, pointy and perfect.

Thorin drew his gaze forcibly away from the erect rubies and looked Bella in the eye. She was blinking furiously, looking him up and down. Their eyes met and suddenly, with a start, Bella seemed to become aware of her state of undress. She hurried to wrap the dressing gown around herself, tying the belt quickly and tightly around her soft midsection, her pink cheeks reddening as she blushed. The dressing gown now covered her breasts along with her rubies, but the belt highlighted the shape of her waist and hips, so Thorin certainly wasn't complaining.

"Uh, yes. Good evening," Bella said politely, grasping the frame of the door. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Thorin Oakenshield," said Thorin, his emotions making his voice thick and hoarse. Clearing his throat, he then added, more composed, "son of Thrain son of Thror, King-In-Exile Under the Mountain. At your service."

At least he still knew how to give a regal bow, no matter how much blood was gathering into his loins, or if his heart ached just a little bit less now that he was finally in the presence of his Bella.

Though she wasn't really _his_ Bella, was she. Not yet, at least.

"Bella Baggins," Bella introduced herself. "At your and your family's service. Can I help you with something, Mister Oakenshield?""

Thorin didn't know that Gandalf hadn't told Bella anything about her guests, not now nor the last time, not even the fact that there would be any guests coming to visit her. The last time, Bella and Thorin's first meeting hadn't been particularly nice, and so Bella had never brought the subject up with Thorin. Thus Thorin was now under the misguided impression that Bella had, indeed, known to wait for the Company. He never even came to wonder why she was wearing her night clothes, assuming instead that she just wanted to feel comfortable at her own home as was the right of any host and hostess.

"No, Miss Baggins," Thorin assured her now. "Now that I have found my way here, I require nothing in particular. I'm content as it is."

They stared at each other for quite a while, Bella frowning a bit as if in confusion, while Thorin wondered why she wasn't yet inviting him in.

"Very well then," Bella said eventually, slowly. "If you're sure you don't need anything... I mean, I don't mean to be rude, Mister Oakenshiled, but it's quite late and I'm just making supper and I should probably go and see whether the potatoes are done. I should also gut the fish and wash the carrots, so you can see that I have quite a lot to do at the moment, so..."

Thorin offered her an easy grin and stepped pass by her into the smial. While she was trying to make him leave, he assumed that she was trying to ask his help to prepare the meal for the entire Company – he was there too early, after all, and so he assumed that he had interrupted her preparations.

"Since I'm here quite early," he said jovially, taking his gloves off and placing them onto a near-by table, "and since it appears that you are in need of help, I shall help you to prepare the supper."

"What? No!" squeaked Bella, holding the door more widely open. "That won't be necessary! I mean, thank you for the offer, Mister Oakenshield, but I don't need any help. I can prepare the supper myself, I always do. It's kind of you to offer, really, but no thank you. I don't need any help."

"It's no trouble, Miss Baggins, I assure you. I often cook for my family, for my two nephews, Fili and Kili, and I quite enjoy doing it."

A few moments later Thorin found himself standing in Bella's kitchen, while Bella kept telling him how late it was and asking him if, perhaps, he needed to be going already, but Thorin assured her that he was in no rush – the Company hadn't yet even arrived, after all.

The kitchen was uncomfortably small and made of mostly out of wood, but there was an oven there, and all the other necessary items for someone who intended to make supper. The pantry, on the other hand, was impressive with all the food that Bella had managed to cram in there.

Once he had familiarized himself with the kitchen, Thorin prepared several dishes – fish, chicken, steaks, casseroles – while Bella fetched politely this and that upon his requests babbling all the while about the lateness of the hour.

Thorin was enjoying his time with Bella. Eventually he even made his famous meat loaf and offered Bella a slice to taste.

"Yes, very good," said Bella, licking her lips. "Quite tasty. But perhaps we don't need any more food? There is quite a lot of it already, isn't there. And it's just one supper, really. I don't think I-"

A knock on the door interrupted her, giving her a start. She lifted a hand to her chest, grasping the front of her dressing gown as if for support.

"It's probably my cousin, Otho," she said quietly, though she didn't sound like she believed her own words.

"It's my cousin, Dwalin, son of Fundin," corrected Thorin, glancing at the cuckoo clock in the corner of the kitchen, and Bella let out a high-pitched noise, nodding her head.

"Oh. Of course it is," she wheezed. "Dwalin, son of Fundin. Your cousin. Who else."

It was, indeed, Dwalin who, upon seeing Thorin in the kitchen, immediately asked if they were going to have meat loaf for supper. It seemed to delight him greatly to have an affirmative answer, and so he sat on the kitchen counter with content, watching Thorin cook. With some help from Bella, Thorin managed to prepare most of the dishes just in time for Balin's arrival.

Ten minutes after Balin's arrival, Ori, Nori and Dori joined the four of them. Dori immediately came to help Thorin with the rest of the food, while his brothers went to the dining room with Dwalin and Balin.

Bella ran around the smial, telling her guests not to touch this and that. She even forbad Dwalin from making toothpicks out of some old shoehorn, looking lost with all the dwarves suddenly filling her small smial. Thorin felt the need to comfort her. Bella didn't yet really know them, after all, and so it was only natural for her to be wary and distrustful of them – she was just one hobbit, while they were six dwarrows, all of them more or less armed.

"Fear not, Miss Baggins," Thorin reassured her when she came back to the kitchen. "We will not harm you, I give you my word. We may be a loud lot, but no ill will has come to your home with us."

She met his gaze, the look in her eyes hesitant. As Thorin watched, her expression gradually changed. First she frowned, then her cheeks flushed, followed soon after by her eyes darkening – Thorin was familiar enough with this particular expression of Bella's to take a few cautious steps backwards: he had no idea what had caused it, but Bella Baggins had just become angry and upset at him.

"No ill will!" Bella exclaimed with visible indignation. "No ill will, Mister Oakenshield! You come into _my kitchen_ and destroy all of my vegetables, even my _pumpkins_, calling them _potentially poisonous_! You use my mother's _trousseaus_ as a rag to wipe the kitchen counter on which one of your friends _sat_! And then you say that you bear 'no ill will' – _I beg your pardon!_"

"You are hereby pardoned," said Thorin hesitantly, confused, while Dori stared at the flushed hobbit from where he was stirring the gravy, looking equally bemused.

To Thorin's further confusion, pardoning Bella was apparently the wrong thing to do, as Bella only seemed to get more upset. She began to rant about "mud" and "boots" and "swords" and "scratching the floor" and many other things Thorin didn't quite even comprehend. By the time she was finally finished, she was panting and still visibly upset.

"Perhaps I should make us some tea," suggested ever-so-practical Dori in a quiet voice, giving Bella a hesitant look.

Nodding at Dori thankfully, Thorin hovered next to Bella, unsure of what to do. He was unsettled to see her distress and wondered if there was some kind of a cultural misunderstanding between them that he wasn't quite grasping. There had been some of those during the quest, especially in the beginning.

It was almost a relief when Gandalf arrived, right about then, with the rest of the Company, because _grâhabunka_ or not, hobbits were at times impossible to understand without a wizard.

Unfortunately, it soon turned out that Gandalf wasn't going to help, at least not Thorin. To Thorin's great disappointment, the wizard didn't offer any explanations but simply asked Bella to join them at the dining table which she eventually did, slumping down onto her seat and pouring herself a glass full of wine.

While they all ate, Gandalf gave Thorin very a suspicious look, making a comment about Thorin being there a bit early. Thorin hurried to distract the wizard, saying as haughtily as he simply could, "I am my own master. In no way am I bound to time limits set by wizards," which was just enough to make Gandalf huff in annoyance and turn away from him in indignation.

* * *

_A/N: Poor Bella. I think she's doing her best to fend Thorin off her kitchen, but since Thorin can be quite literal, he doesn't quite understand Bella's polite hints.  
_

_Thank you for all the reviews! I'll answer them later today, but I'm in a bit of a hurry right now so I simply don't have the time at the moment. I'll get back to them as soon as I can, though. :)_

_EDIT: And special thanks to Borys68 for reminding me that Dwalin&Balin are actually Thorin's cousins!_


	6. Of Decisions

After the Company had eaten all the food that Thorin had made for them and after the dishes had been washed and put into the cupboards, the meeting could finally properly begin. To Thorin's surprise, the atmosphere was quite a lot more sombre now than it had been the last time. Without Fili and Kili, there was no youthful, enthusiastic presence at the table and Ori was silenced by Dori long before he had managed to finish his sentence about giving Smaug "a taste of dwarvish iron up his jacksies".

Even the sitting order differed from what Thorin remembered. While Thorin had been in the Iron Hills, the word had spread in Ered Luin about the fact that Fili and Kili would not be joining the Company after all. This unexpected news had divided the Company in three which was now reflected on the sitting order of the dwarves: At the left side of the table sat Dwalin, Ori, Bofur and Oin, those who were of the opinion that Fili and Kili should have been allowed to join them, while Balin, Dori, Bombur and Gloin sat on Thorin's right, agreeing with the decision to leave the young princes at home. The third party, the neutral ones, were Bifur and Nori who sat at the other end of the table facing Thorin, Bella and Gandalf, refusing to voice their opinion.

Others had no trouble to voice their thoughts. It was as if some of them, Oin and Bofur in particular, had simply been waiting for an opportunity to let Thorin know what they thought of the matter, even though everyone knew that it wasn't really their place at all to question Thorin's decisions.

"But the lads are of age!" protested the ever-so-rightful Bofur, the ear flaps of his grey hat quivering in the rhythm of his speech. "It just seems terribly unfair to me to deny them the chance to fight a dragon. It's not like there's another dragon they can go fight later, is it. That's why Smaug is called _the_ Greatest Calamity of Our Time. And besides, Ori's not much older than Fili and Kili and, yet, here he is but they are not."

"I _strongly object_ to Ori being here," said Dori immediately – for the sixth time that evening – giving his younger brother a stern, disapproving look. "He should have stayed in Ered Luin with Gimli and the princes like he was told to. A quest is no place for young ones."

"Well!" said Ori with his face flushing beat red. "I have already signed the contract, so you can't make me go back home, Dori. And this is a quest for the _future_ of dwarves, so this _is_ a place for _younger_ dwarves too – we young ones are the future, after all, are we not!"

Dori's disapproving look turned into one of shocked dismay as he witnessed Ori's rare case of impertinence, but Nori grinned widely, reaching out to pat Ori in the back.

"The future of dwarves does, indeed, lie with the young ones," pondered Bombur, clasping his hand over his admirably round belly, "not in any quest, not in any one mountain, no matter how great a mountain, nor how grand a quest. Thus the lives of the young ones should be protected by all means necessary. I have to say that I'm not disappointed at all by Thorin's decision. I fully agree with him."

"You people sometimes forget it," said Oin peevishly, "but _thirteen is unlucky_. It's a _cursed_ number, the _krous_, cursed thirteen. In the addition to me and my brother, there are eleven people going on this quest, Gandalf and the burglar included. That's unlucky! Thirteen is _cursed_! The princes should have come with us to prevent the curse!"

The Company bursted into loud arguments, but eventually Thorin had had enough of it all, enough of this particular decision of his being questioned, enough of his leadership being questioned.

"Enough!" he cried, banging his fist against the table top, causing Bella to give a little start next to him. An immediate silence fell to the room and Gandalf raised his eyebrows, looking irritatingly attentive.

"My decision has already been made," Thorin declared once he had everyone's attention. "Fili and Kili are my sister-sons. They are my heirs, my family. While some of you question my decision to deny them the chance to join this Company, can any one of you blame me for not risking the treasure that my sister trusted in my care on her deathbed, what she trusted me to keep safe?"

"Surely not!" exclaimed Gloin, glaring at the four dwarves in front of him on the other side of the table. "Not at all, Thorin! You are doing your duty by protecting your heirs. No-one should fault you for that."

"No-one _is_ faulting Thorin for anything," said Dwalin, visibly annoyed. "Some of us just disagree on this, because this decision may well put _Thorin's life_ at risk. He should be protected better!"

"Yes, but perhaps he-"

"_Silence!_" cried Thorin and this time no-one dared to resume arguing.

After this, the meeting proceeded pretty much the same way that it had the last time. Gandalf presented Thorin with the key to Erebor and Thorin pretended to be astonished. To unify the conflicted Company, Thorin then gave a speech about bravery, loyalty, companionship and the importance of combined efforts. His speech was greeted with a loud cheer and all ten members of his Company swore to follow Thorin wherever he would lead them. While their motivations varied from loyalty and sense of honour to the will to make a fortune and to the will to avenge their fallen friends and family members, all of them agreed on one thing: Smaug was to be slaughtered by whatever means necessary – and that kind of a shared goal, Thorin knew, was a great unifying force in itself.

Bella still did faint after receiving the contract, but this time Thorin _just happened_ to be standing right next to her and thus he managed to catch her before she hit the ground. Once recovered, Bella refused to join the Company and locked herself in her bedroom, closing the bedroom door a bit louder than strictly necessary.

The Company scattered gradually around the smial. Most of the dwarves decided to rest in the living room, making bets about this and that or studying Bella's possessions, but Bombur and Dori headed for the pantry to digest whatever remaining crumbs of food they could find.

After talking with Balin and Gandalf about "the situation with the burglar", Thorin opted to stand in the living room in front of the fireplace, staring at the dancing flames with his hands behind his stiff back.

While the other dwarves swarmed around the room, Thorin was trying to hide the fact that his very core was burning with disappointment. He had wished for his and Bella's new beginning to be nicer. He had wanted to give her a good first impression, had wanted to impress her with his cooking. It seemed like none of it had worked – she didn't like him any better now than she had in the first beginning. It was very painful to be in love with her, while she barely remembered him by title, let alone by name. Thorin knew that it was irrational, but he had foolishly wished that she would somehow recall her feelings for him without him having to tell her about the _grâhabunka_. Needless to say, this wish had not been granted. She didn't seem to remember anything about him.

"All right there?" asked Dwalin quietly, coming to stand next to Thorin.

Annoyed at having his relatively solitary, gloomy moment interrupted, Thorin snapped, "It concerns you not."

He regretted his outburst immediately. Dwalin had done nothing to deserve to be treated in such a rude manner, and as Thorin rarely snapped at the warrior, behaviour like this could easily cause suspicion. Thorin couldn't afford for his friends to become suspicious, nor did he want to offend Dwalin.

Pressing his lips tightly together, Thorin glanced at his friend in a silent apology. Dwalin nodded at him casually with his arms folded on his chest, accepting Thorin's wordless apology in an equally silent manner, studying Thorin with a contemplative look upon his face. The flames in the fireplace reflected on the metal details of Dwalin's clothes and managed to make him look even more dangerous but somehow softer. Thorin snorted at the sight and turned back to the fireplace.

"Frustrating business, ain't it," said Dwalin in an assessing manner and Thorin could sense the sharp gaze aimed at his direction, "losing a burglar before we really even had one."

"The hobbit might yet change her mind," muttered Thorin, though uncertainty gnawed at him – the last time, Bella had changed her mind and joined the Company, but would she this time?

Would she?

Dwalin grunted noncommittaly.

"Doesn't really matter either way, does it," he said. "It's not like she would be of any use to us, soft and delicate as she is. She doesn't have the makings of a burglar. The wilderness is no place for her kind. Really, Thorin, we're better off without her, so cheer up, will you. Losing her is no hindrance."

Thorin couldn't help feeling a flash of annoyance at Dwalin's words. Bella had proven herself from time and time again. Without her, the entire Company would have been doomed for more than once. Then again, Dwalin couldn't yet know this. And the last time, it had been _Thorin_ who had been voicing these same doubts and he had done it much less subtly, much more cruelly, right in Bella's face, so it would have been quite hypocritical of him to now fault Dwalin for speaking his mind.

When Thorin didn't say anything, Dwalin gave a quiet snort. His next question – asked in a low voice in Khuzdul – was not at all expected by Thorin.

"_Or perhaps your sudden gloominess has more to do with the way we just lost_ the lass _rather than the way we just lost_ a burglar?..." Dwalin gave Thorin a searching look. "_You may think that you were subtle with those quick glances of yours, Thorin, and perhaps you were, too,_ from the point of view of the others, _but you're never subtle enough to fool me. I noticed the way you kept looking at her, those glances you gave her. You watched her with such longing, with such want and need, with such admiration – this bewilders me, for I've never seen you looking at anyone like that, not even at those whom you've taken to your bed more than twice. You are obviously quite taken by this hobbit, you looked almost_ mesmerized _when she looked at you._"

Thorin didn't bother to deny the truth in Dwalin's words. They knew each other too well to try to lie.

"_Get to the point,_" he said instead, using Khuzdul as well.

Thorin was grasped by the shoulder and Dwalin turned him so that they were facing each other. With his manner now gruff and a bit awkward, Dwalin peered closely in Thorin's eyes, giving Thorin a firm shake as if to clear his head.

"_Are yer sure that the lass didn't flavour your food with some kind of a love potion?_" he asked quietly, concerned. "_It's not like you to get all wide-eyed like some lovesick tween, it's not like you to become_ mesmerized_, especially by someone you've only just met. I've known you for all my life, Thorin, and you've never acted like this. Hobbits might have... abilities that are unheard of among dwarves. And she's friends with the wizard, isn't she. She may well be a witch with her eye on your throne, I think she might have enchanted you._"

"_She's_ not _a_ witch, _Dwalin,_" Thorin hissed immediately, glancing around them to make sure that the rest of the Company wasn't paying attention to their conversation – fortunately, they were still occupied making their bets and – in Balin and Ori's case – browsing through Bella's book collections.

"_I forbid you to talk about her like that. She's done nothing to me, I assure you. Miss Baggins has harmed me in no way._"

"_That's exactly what you would say had she enchanted you,_" Dwalin said, narrowing his eyes. "_I don't trust her, nor do I trust Gandalf. Perhaps we should ask Oin to take a closer look at you, just in case._"

"_That's not necessary,_" said Thorin sternly, crossing his arms across his chest. "_I'm quite all right, believe me. I haven't digested any love potions, so worry not._"

"_If that is true, then tell me why you are so disappointed by her not joining the Company that you're acting as sourly as you would had Oin just declared you unfit to yield a sword._"

Thorin sighed and raised a hand to rub his face in a tired fashion, opting to tell Dwalin a part of the truth to ease the warrior's mind.

"_Well, Dwalin,_" he said. "_It's like you said: I'm_ disappointed, _bitterly disappointed. I had truly hoped that Miss Baggins would accompany us, not only to become our burglar, but also for I would have liked to get to know her better. You were right when you claimed that I kept looking at her – that is true, I did so, but only because I happened to find her form very appealing. No being has ever before pleased my eye so. She looks so very... fertile._"

"_True that,_" Dwalin agreed, though he was still searching Thorin's face with worry and hesitation.

The fire danced in the fireplace, crackling and sparking, and the two dwarves stood silently in front of it, too deep in their thoughts to pay the flames too much mind. Gandalf stepped into the room and went to sit by the window with Bifur and Bofur, asking if the toymaker could perhaps play them something with his flute. Grinning, Bofur fished his flute out of the inside pocket of his coat and soon the living room was filled with joyful songs, some of which Thorin recognized as Kili's favourites.

"_From what little can be seen of its shape from under those gowns,_" Dwalin said quietly just as Bofur began his fifth song, "_Miss Baggins does have a nice buttock, doesn't she._"

"_Nothing wrong with her face either,_" mused Thorin.

"_Not at all, if you don't mind the absence of the beard, that is. Though I suppose her feet make up for that rather nicely, big and hairy as they are – I caught a glance of them when she lifted the hem of her gowns to step over some bags of the Ri brothers, you see._"

"_I saw not,_" sulked Thorin, though he had of course seen Bella's tantalizing feet many times in the course of the quest the first time around.

"_Well, no matter,_" shrugged Dwalin, giving Thorin's shoulder an encouraging pat before taking a few steps backwards to put more distance between them, apparently now convinced that his friend hadn't been enchanted after all. "_If Baggins happens to change her mind about joining the Company some time between now and tomorrow morning, you will see her feet at some point, I'm sure of it. And if she does choose to join us, one day you might even get to see her thighs and test their strength – one never knows, Thorin, one never knows._"

Half an hour later Thorin called the rest of the Company into the living room where they then proceeded to hold a ceremony to mark the beginning of the quest, just like they had done the last time. Thorin sang sacred songs and spoke sacred words with the others accompanying him. Afterwards Thorin ordered everyone - apart from Bofur who had the first watch - to go to rest, for they would truly "away ere break of day".

As he laid on his mattress, staring at the (far too low) wood plank ceiling, Thorin considered going to talk with Bella to convince her to join the Company, but eventually he disregarded the idea. He had done enough damage already, he assumed, and so he decided to wait and see what Bella's decision would be before making any further plans of action.

It wasn't until much, much later that Thorin found out that Dwalin spent most of that night outside Bella's bedroom window, telling her about Thorin and Thorin's life, about Thorin's struggles, about his achievements, about Fili and Kili and how Thorin had become their guardian after the death of Dis. Standing on a bed of lilac pansies, Dwalin said all that he could think of to convince Bella to join the Company, for while he didn't think highly of her at all, he had spoken the truth when he had said that he hadn't seen Thorin as mesmerized by anyone before – if there was even the slightest chance of this harmless hobbit lass bringing some happiness in Thorin's hardship of a life, Dwalin was damned if he didn't do all that he could to keep her around Thorin for a bit longer to give Thorin the chance to get to know her better (and to see her feet).

First Bella was irritated to have her sleep interrupted and tried to close the window, hitting Dwalin in the fingers and in the head with a white lace fan, calling him a devious rogue for sneaking under her bedroom window and for trudging her flowers, but eventually she began to actually listen to his words. Gradually she found her curiosity growing and began asking questions about Thorin and dwarves in general, all of which Dwalin answered, more or less honestly.

By morning, Dwalin had done his duty as Thorin's best friend, though he had to go and drink a few tankards of strong ale in Bella's pantry for that, spent as he was after talking so much – and mostly about _Thorin_, of all available topics. Speaking to people exhausted Dwalin, just as it exhausted Thorin, and they both always needed several hours, if not full days, to energize themselves after prolonged cases of social interaction.

When Thorin woke up a few hours before the dawn, Bella was already backing her backpack, writing letters to her friends and neighbours, most of whom were her kin. The contract laid – signed – on her desk and she gave it to Balin as soon as she noticed him being awake, with a proud Gandalf by her side.

When questioned about the motivations behind her sudden change of mind, Bella looked resolute and said that dwarves had suffered enough hardship already, that everyone should have a home and a chance at happiness, that everyone should belong to somewhere, that she would do all that she could to help the Company to reclaim their mountain for their young ones, for the future of dwarrows. After her passionate speech, Thorin gave her a small smile and, to his delighted amazement, she returned it with one of her own. While they stood there smiling at each other, a slightly tipsy Dwalin stepped unexpectedly out of the pantry. Upon noticing the people in the hallway, he glanced at Bella's backside, mouthing "yeah, a great buttock", before winking at Thorin.

* * *

The next few days proceeded more or less in the same fashion they had the first time around, though it was very odd not to have Fili and Kili among the Company. Thorin kept opening his mouth to say something to his nephews, but every time he looked over and saw Nori and Dori riding behind him instead of his sister-sons, he was reminded of the fact that, this time, he truly had left the boys home. Thorin didn't regret his decision, not in this instance, but he still missed his nephews and the ache only grew in his heart the further away from Ered Luin they rode. It was selfish of him, he knew, but then again, he had never claimed to be unselfish. All dwarves were selfish. He, perhaps, more so than the most.

Thorin opted to ride next to Gloin every now and then, talking about Fili and Kili and Gimli, speculating with the red-haired dwarf what the boys were currently up to, what they had been doing that day, how they were faring. It was surprisingly comforting to share his thoughts with someone who had left a young one behind. It didn't take long for a wistful Bombur – who had left his children in Ered Luin with their mother – to join these discussions.

When Thorin wasn't riding with Gloin and Bombur, he made sure to ride right at the front with Dwalin and Balin, to lead his Company to their destination himself. He found it a great pity that Bella was such a poor rider and thus spent most of her time with Gandalf, Bofur and Ori in the rear. For reasons Thorin couldn't fathom, she seemed to earnestly like the wizard, even the second time around. Gandalf seemed to enjoy her company as well, but that was understandable. She was... likeable, after all.

Occupied though he may have been, this didn't mean that Thorin wasn't constantly observing their surroundings with a sharp, cautious eye. Thus it was no wonder that he noticed something flashing in the sun every few moments, some fifty yards behind them in the shadows of the thick bushes that flanked the narrow path. After the eleventh flash, Thorin gave Dwalin a sideways glance.

"We're being followed," he said quietly.

Dwalin gave him a grim nod, keeping his focus straight ahead.

"Aye, I've noticed. Was just about to alert you."

* * *

_A/N: And finally the quest has begun! XD_

_Thanks for all the feedback you've given me. :)_


	7. Confrontations and Explanations

They hadn't been followed the last time, of that Thorin was quite certain – since he and Dwalin had noticed the flashes of light now, they would have noticed them then as well. So far Thorin hadn't changed their travel route at all and their pace had been about as brisk as the first time around, so the fact that they were now followed was therefore cause for great concern. Thorin wondered, briefly, if anyone could have found out about the _grâhabunka_, but then he disregarded the thought, as he was certain that the Company would have said something to him had that been the case. Still, could it be that some of Azog's orcs had somehow been able to find them already?

"_I don't think that there are more than two of them, whoever they are,_" said Dwalin in Khuzdul, barely moving his lips and only loud enough for Thorin to just make out. "_Four at most."_

"_In that case, we shall turn and confront them_," Thorin decided. "_If they are orcs or bandits, we can still overpower them with our greater numbers, but if we wait and ride forward, there might be an ambush waiting for us somewhere along the path – they might be simply waiting for us to get surrounded. I prefer confronting them now when the chances are still on our side._"

Just then Bella and Bofur's laughter rang in the peaceful afternoon. Thorin didn't know what they were laughing at, but he felt a sudden bang of remorse, as he remembered that this Bella Baggins did not yet have any experience in handling weapons of any kind. She hadn't been in a real fight and therefore this confrontation would be her first. Thorin hadn't yet even taught her any self-defence, and so he could only hope that his negligence wouldn't cause her any harm.

Frowning, Thorin made a quick assessment of their surroundings: The area was mostly flat deciduous forest and the few hillocks here and there were just high enough for someone to hide behind but not steep and large enough to take cover in case of an attack. There were several narrow paths in the addition to the one on which they were currently riding but Thorin did not know where they would lead to.

"_Take Nori and Gloin with you,_" Thorin told Dwalin. "_They're skilful and fast riders. Try to get behind our pursuers, the aim is to prevent their escape. Whistle twice like a greenfinch once you're in the position. I will then count slowly to ten, before attacking with the rest of the Company. If these bandits or orcs or whatever they are run to your direction, catch them._"

"_We must be efficient when silencing them_," mused Dwalin,_ "lest they can shout warnings to any allies they might have somewhere nearby._"

"_Use whatever means necessary to do that,_" said Thorin, "_but I'd prefer to have at least one of them alive, as I'd like to question them. Still, do whatever you have to do to protect yourselves._"

Dwalin gave Thorin a curt nod to acknowledge the words.

Thorin slowed his pace and dropped back to inform the rest of the Company of the attack plans. To fool anyone who might have been observing them from further away, Thorin kept a wide grin on his face while he explained the situation in Khuzdul, making misleading motions with his hands as if he was simply telling some kind of an amusing story to his companions. He told Bofur to stay close to Bella and asked him to explain the situation to her in Westron. Once he was done, he urged everyone to laugh, which they did quite dutifully. To anyone watching, their behaviour would not have been a cause for alertness, Thorin made sure of that.

As Dwalin, Gloin and Nori disappeared into the bushes that flanked the path, practising all the stealth they had between the three of them, Ori spurred on his pony to ride by Thorin's side. The scribe's eyes were wide and he looked very pale, almost as if he was about to be sick. This puzzled Thorin, as the the first time around, the boy had looked this ill _only_ when coming face to face with either Smaug or Azog. A simple confrontation like this should not have caused such nervousness in a lad who was fundamentally quite brave.

Upon noticing Thorin's inquiring gaze, Ori swallowed visibly. Coughing once to clear his throat, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Uh," Ori managed. "Um..."

He snapped his mouth shut, looking terribly nervous, only to open his mouth again a few heartbeats later to, "uh, um," again. This happened a few times, but then Thorin had had enough.

"Either speak your mind already, or keep your mouth shut," he grumbled, because he really didn't have the patience to be nice right now.

Poor Ori paled further upon hearing his gruff words.

"Uh..." he said breathlessly. "Um, it's- it's nothing, really, Your Highness."

"No need to be formal when on the quest."

"Oh, but this isn't..." Ori cut himself off, drawing in a deep breath which seemed to calm him down, at least somewhat, and tried again, "This- uh, this really isn't a good time for me to be demonstrating poor upbringing by showing you disrespect, my lord, as Dor- I mean, as some... some people are already upset enough with me as it is."

Thorin snorted a bit at that, but otherwise they continued to ride in silence, waiting for Dwalin's whistles. Thorin was now riding in the rear with Ori, Bifur and Gandalf, while Bofur had taken Bella to the front – this was ideal, since this allowed Thorin to be the first one to attack their pursuers, as soon as Dwalin would give the signal and Thorin would order the Company to turn around.

Thorin had already almost forgotten his short exchange of words with Ori, when the scribe suddenly blurted out, "Must we _kill_ those people who are now following us?"

"_Yes_," Thorin answered in Khuzdul, tightening his grasp on the reins. "_Yes, if they cause us trouble. That's the way it often is in the wilderness, Ori – kill or be killed. Though this time I'd like to keep our pursuers alive at least till I know their reasons for following us. If you have anything further to say on the matter, use Khuzdul, so that our pursuers will not understand, happened they be in the hearing range._"

"_Uh, yes, of course,_" Ori squeaked, licking his lips in a nervous fashion. "_I just wanted to say that I think that perhaps we should, uh, be careful – _very careful_ – not to... uh, not to harm them, our pursuers, that is? I mean, perhaps they have a good reason to follow us, a _friendly_ reason, one other than a violent one? They might well be someone we know, after all._"

Thorin gave Ori a sharp, suspicious look, and the boy had the good sense to flinch back, but before either one of them had the time to say anything more, Gloin could be heard bellowing, "Unbelievable! I simply _cannot believe_ this! We could've _killed_ you two fools!"

Motioning quietly for the Company to follow him, Thorin turned Minty around and headed towards Gloin's angry shouts. He found Gloin, Dwalin and Nori behind one of the hillocks. They had all dismounted their ponies and Nori was now doing his best to hold five ponies – two of whom, Thorin assumed, belonging to their pursuers – by the reins, while Gloin was grasping their pursuers, two dwarves, by the front of their coats, shaking them in the rhythm of his shouts. Dwalin was standing by Gloin's side, looking attentive but also quite bemused. As soon as Dwalin noticed Thorin, he began to explain how Gloin had – upon seeing the pursuers – just suddenly spurred on his pony and then "sort of just jumped on" the pursuers, before either Dwalin or Nori had managed to stop him.

"_Unbelievable idiocy!_" Gloin was now bellowing right at the pursuers' faces.

"Hmm," Thorin heard Gandalf humming thoughtfully. "This is unexpected. Quite unexpected indeed..."

It truly was unexpected. To say that Thorin was surprised – and relieved – to see more dwarves instead of orcs would have been an understatement.

Once he was certain that the Company was not in any immediate danger after all, Thorin let go off the hilt of his sword and turned his focus on their pursuers. The pursuers were both almost as round as Bombur and so hairy that their black hair and thick beards covered most of their features. Their travel clothes were simple and practical, similar to those worn by Bombur and Oin, their weapons cheap-looking but of relatively good quality.

Even though Thorin studied the pursuers carefully, it took him a while – probably due to the fact that Gloin was still shaking them – to realize that he recognized them both: to Thorin's ken, these two dwarves were Gloin's cousins-in-law, Lady Krimil and Lady Frimil, introduced to Thorin by young Gimli, son of Gloin, some years ago.

By now, most of the Company had dismounted and gathered around Gloin and his cousins-in-law. Gloin was still shaking the ladies by the front of their coats and Bofur, Dori, Dwalin and Balin were doing their best to disengage them from his grip

"Let go off the ladies, Gloin," commanded Thorin.

He had barely said the words, when he heard Bella letting out a loud gasp. She was staring at the Mil sisters with such pure awe and curiosity that Thorin had to quickly tear his gaze away from her to prevent his trousers from getting uncomfortably tight – this was neither the time nor the place to get aroused by those sparkling eyes, especially as this Bella hadn't yet known him for a week.

"_Ladies_, Gandalf?" Bella whispered. "They are _female_ dwarves? How can one tell? They're not even wearing dresses!"

Thorin couldn't hear Gandalf's answer, as Gloin resumed bellowing just then.

"These two fools almost made us _killers of kin_!" he yelled, shaking the ladies, while Dori and Dwalin pried his fingers off, one by one, and Balin and Bofur did their best to pull him away from the Mil sisters. "We thought you orcs, you _drugarhem kalacs_!"

Once Gloin had calmed down enough to let go off his cousins-in-law, Thorin dismounted his pony and stepped between him and the ladies. He gave the Mil sisters an assessing look and both ladies immediately bowed their heads, their black beards and thick, long eyebrows covering their faces.

"Lady Krimil, Lady Frimil," Thorin addressed them, not bothering to give them the formal greetings. "I demand an explanation. Why are you following us like bandits? You do not bring honour to your kin acting like this."

"Your Highness," mumbled Lady Frimil, the slightly shorter one of the two sisters. "We apologize for all the inconvenience, it was not our intention to cause you any trouble. When we were surprised by your warriors a moment ago, Krimil and I were just discussing the best way to make ourselves known to you."

"We have been trying to catch up with you for days, you see," said Lady Krimil, shaking her head as if even the thought of such a thing was terribly tiring to her, "but it isn't until now that we have been able to do so. It is actually because of your charming sister-sons that we are here, my lord. We weren't originally planning on joining you, I must admit, but then the young princes convinced us and here were are, as you can see."

"And they, uh..." Lady Frimil cleared her throat. "I mean, the... princes, they, uh, they sent you letters. Um, here..."

Lady Frimil presented Thorin with two thick envelopes. Both envelopes bore Fili and Kili's official seals and the sight warmed Thorin's heart. He ran a finger along the seals, holding the letters with both hands as if afraid that the mild wind could wrench them out of his hold and carry them away. These envelopes contained messages from his true treasure, from Fili and Kili, and Thorin was careful to put them into the inside pocket of his coat, right above his heart, to wait for the evening when he would have the time to read them in peace.

"You have the gall," grumbled Gloin accusingly, stepping quite unexpectedly between the Mil sisters again, grasping both of them by the neck. "You have the _gall_ to stand there and lie in your uncle's face like that! How dare you!"

Thorin blinked at the red-haired dwarf, while Gloin proceeded to shake the ladies, just like he had done before.

"Gloin, what-"

"How – _dare –_ you – two – _lie _– to – your – Uncle – like – that!" Gloin bellowed between the shakes. "And in front of all these people, no less – your behaviour is simply _appalling_!"

He then shoved the Mil sisters forward, towards Thorin. The sisters found their balance soon enough, but they kept their heads bowed, shoulders slumped, not looking at anyone.

"These two 'ladies' are your Fili and Kili!" Gloin told Thorin, pointing an accusing finger towards the two dwarves.

There was a shocked silence and then, all at once, the Company began to talk. Dori reprimanded the boys, telling them how appalled he was, while Ori – who had apparently been aware of their pursuers' presence and identity from the beginning – apologized again and again, telling Fili and Kili that there hadn't been anything more that he could have done for them but to try to convince Thorin not to kill them by accident. Bifur was removing tree bark from a nearby oak tree, handing pieces of it over to Bella who accepted them all quite politely, her attention divided between the dwarf's peculiar behaviour and the scene that was playing out right there in front of her, while the rest of the Company voiced their confusion in a quite loud manner.

Above it all, Thorin could hear Gloin's explanation, "Frimil and Krimil do not even exist. They're simply characters the boys created to entertain themselves. My Gimli told me a few years ago that Fili and Kili were going around pretending to be his mother's cousins. He pointed them out to me once when they were wearing their costumes in the marketplace. They were quite good actors, Fili and Kili, and everyone believed that they were who they claimed to be. Gimli found it amusing and I didn't say anything to anyone, at the time, because I didn't think that it would cause anyone any harm. I wanted the boys to have their fun, but this is _too much_! To use imaginary characters to try to fool one's king, one's guardian, one's uncle! I recognized these two as soon as I laid my eyes on them!"

"Gimli actually _told_ you?" asked Lady Frimil, sounding betrayed, though her voice wasn't as deep anymore and Thorin could now easily recognize the voice as Fili's.

"Aye, he did," confirmed Gloin, "because my son is an _honest_ boy. He never lies to his papa."

"That tell-tale!" cried Kili, raising his head and brushing all the hair from his face. "Oi, I'm going to show him what I think of such-"

"You better not!" Gloin cut him off, huffing.

There was a high-pitched ringing noise in Thorin's ears. He watched how Balin took Fili and Kili's wigs, artificial beards and artificial eyebrows off, and how Dwalin took a knife and cut the boys' tunics open, revealing all the hay with which Fili and Kili had stuffed the large tunics to create their round figures. Thorin watched the reactions of the Company – the appalled shock on Dori's face, the resignation on Ori's, the barely hidden amusement on Gandalf's. He watched Bofur saying something to Bella who then covered her mouth with one hand while accepting more of the tree bark from Bifur with the other.

Thorin watched it all, but all he could see were the hazy memories from during the time he had spent under the dragon sickness: He saw Fili and Kili standing between him and Azog, weaponless, Fili and Kili laying on the ground, bloodied, dead, with their eyes open but unseeing. He saw the line of Durin ending with him. He remembered how it had felt coming to in the water closet and believing that he had taken his boys to death with him. Thorin saw it all and he remembered it all. It was like a nightmare.

Feeling somehow detached, Thorin took a step towards his sister-sons. He was distantly aware of the fact that the cacophony of different voices fell gradually silent, as the Company focused their attention on him, on his movements, on his actions.

Once he was standing right in front of his boys, Thorin slowly raised his head and looked at them both. Without the wigs and all the artificial hair, Thorin could now see their familiar features. Fili and Kili were both sweaty, their hair sticking to their skin, probably due to the fact that they had spent several hours surrounded by tens of pounds of hay on a relatively warm afternoon, but otherwise they looked healthy and well.

Thorin couldn't bring himself to look them in the eye, and so he focused his gaze on somewhere above Fili's right ear.

"Follow me."

No-one made a sound, as he turned around and walked away from the Company. He didn't need to make sure whether the boys were following him.

Once he was out of the hearing range of the Company, he came to a halt.

"Explain."

There was a moment of complete silence, then:

"As your family, it's our right to protect you," Fili said quietly but firmly. "We've been planning on following you on the quest for years, ever since we first heard you talking about reclaiming Erebor, really. We've trained for this, prepared for this. We've been saving money for all this time, so that we could buy our own ponies and supplies, in case you wouldn't take us with you _–_ though we earnestly thought that you would take us with you, considering the way you said that you would."

"But then you changed your mind in the last minute," Kili said accusingly.

"Fortunately," continued Fili, "we had already made our backup plans and were thus able to follow you on our own. After you left from Ered Luin to go to the Iron Hills, we bought the ponies and the rest of the necessary supplies with the money that we had saved. We told Master Hurdil not to expect us back any time soon. We left letters to our friends so that they wouldn't worry. Then we followed the Ri brothers to the Shire, unnoticed. In the Shire, we then purchased hay from one of the stables and the hobbits helped us stuff our loose clothes, so that we looked nicely fat and round."

"We were much rounder than this when freshly stuffed," Kili hurried to say and Thorin heard him patting his stuffed sides, "but the hay kept flattening, each day."

"We're not stupid," said Fili, "so we knew that either you or Dwalin would eventually notice us following you. The Mil sisters were a precaution. The plan was to pretend that we were the Mil sisters, so you'd allow us to join the Company, even if we were caught. We actually created these Mil characters just for this purpose only a month after we first heard about the quest: We're male, so we made them female. We're not very round, so we made them _very_ round. We're not that hairy-"

"_Weren't_ that hairy _at the time_."

"-so we made them _very_ hairy. All so that you wouldn't recognize us, Uncle. We then made Gimli to introduce the Mil sisters to you as his mother's cousins – it worked, you didn't recognize us, but you still considered us somewhat kin. Then we would just make mentions of the Mil sisters every now and then to make sure that you wouldn't forget them. And before we left Ered Luin, we wrote you letters in case you caught us, just so that you would be too distracted by them to pay too much attention to our characters."

"It was actually quite a lot of work, all of it, even though it may not sound like it now."

"I bet it would have worked too, hadn't Gimli told everything to his father."

All this was said very quickly and only the decades of experience of communicating with Fili and Kili made it possible for Thorin to follow the explanation.

Once the boys had explained everything and finally fell silent, there really were only two things for Thorin to say, "That was the most foolish plan that I've ever heard of," and, "I told you to stay at home. It was a direct order."

He only said the latter one out loud, finally turning around to face his boys.

"We know, Uncle," said Fili immediately, his blue eyes full of resignation, worry and determination. "And we are sorry for disobeying you and for lying to you, but we only did it because we want to protect you."

"I don't want your protection."

"You have it whether you want it or not!" cried Kili with his dark gaze flashing with hurt, disappointment, obstinacy and the ever present pride. "You cannot make us go home, Thorin, you cannot keep us from following you – our actions have certainly managed to prove that, at least, even if our plans didn't otherwise work."

"You may have planned your actions, but you certainly didn't think them through – you have deliberately put yourselves in danger!"

"That's the whole point, Thorin! We are here to _protect you_!"

Thorin was quite conflicted. On one hand, seeing the boys soothed his heart, calmed his mind – on the other hand, their actions, their disobedience, their _lies_ enraged him. They had defied him – their guardian, their uncle, their king – in front of the entire Company. They had put themselves in danger. This time, Thorin really didn't want them on the quest, didn't want to put them at risk again. Their behaviour was unforgivable and had to have consequences, but more importantly, what could Thorin do to make the boys go back home? What could he do to keep them safe?

When the answer suddenly hit Thorin, it was quite simple in its cruelty: nothing, really. Fili and Kili were too clever, stubborn and naive for their own good, and Thorin would never be able to keep them as safe as he wanted to.

"You know nothing of the world," Thorin repeated the words he had once already said to his boys, wondering whether his voice sounded as empty and hollow to them as it did to his own ears.

"Follow me if you must," he then added, "but know this: if you were to die on this quest, I would never forgive myself. Your death would be the end of me, it would destroy me, regardless of whether my body would live or die."

With that, Thorin stepped pass by his nephews and walked back to the Company.

The letters Fili and Kili had written to him _to distract him_ burnt against his chest like fire.

"This will break the curse quite nicely, I believe," he heard Oin whispering to Gandalf when he reached them. "Now there are fourteen of us, after all. Fifteen, if we count you."

"Please do," said Gandalf amiably. "People so rarely do."

* * *

_A/N: Some of you might find this chapter a bit incoherent and confusing, I apologize for that. I hope that you enjoyed reading it anyway!_

_On another note, I won't be able to update till some time next week, because I have to write a long essay which is due on Monday._

_And as always, thank you for all the reviews! :)_


	8. No Regrets

Unlike Thorin, Dori didn't take his charge out of the Company's hearing range before voicing his displeasure, quite the opposite, actually. While Thorin allowed Fili and Kili to explain themselves and made sure to reprimand them in private, Dori interrogated Ori about his participation in the matter right there in front of everyone, not even bothering to lower his voice. Ori admitted to aiding Fili and Kili in their endeavour to follow the Company, but put great emphasis on the fact that neither one of the princes had forced him to do it and that his participation had been completely voluntary, that he had actually _offered_ to do all this, and more.

Gloin told this to Thorin as soon as Thorin came back to the Company from where he had been talking with Fili and Kili. Once Gloin had explained everything, Thorin turned to look at Ori who was flanked on both sides by his brothers. Dori was wringing his hands, his whole being a picture of shame and distress and worry, while Nori looked slightly less nonchalant than usually upon seeing the dark look on Thorin's face, though he still just stood there with his hands deep in his pockets chewing a piece of dried tar.

When Thorin motioned for Ori to follow him, the boy met his gaze briefly before inhaling sharply. Thorin took Ori further away from the Company to get them some privacy, just like he had done with Fili and Kili. Once they were alone, he leveled Ori with a look. This was enough to make the boy blink furiously and hang his head in shame.

"You chose your loyalty to your friends over your loyalty to me," stated Thorin. "You were well aware of the fact that I didn't want Fili and Kili to join the Company and yet you still aided them instead of telling me of their plans. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"M-my lord," Ori said, his voice wavering a bit, "what I did, I did for you. Yes, I knew Fili and Kili were following us and, yes, I did all that I could do to help them _of my own f-free will_, but whilst I believe that they should have the right to join us, I did not aid them for their gain but for yours. Please, do not question my loyalty to you, for I know it to be unwavering – you once gave me a f-future and I will never forget that."

Thorin had indeed given Ori a future, once. He could still remember the little boy Ori had then been, far too small and skinny, wearing clothes too thin for Ered Luin's cold winters, clothes of such poor quality that Thorin wouldn't have allowed Fili and Kili to even try them on, let alone to actually wear them on a daily basis. Nori and Dori had been doing their best to support their small family, but most of their coins had been used on rent and food, and so they simply hadn't been able to buy Ori anything better. Still, Ori and his clothes had always been clean, despite of their thinness. His hair had always been carefully combed and neatly braided, his manner polite and obedient, if also quite shy and timid.

It hadn't taken long at all for Thorin to become fond of Fili and Kili's new playmate, nor to notice how bright the little boy actually was, how sharp a mind he possessed, how detailed and precise his drawings were for such a young lad. Ori hadn't been able to read or write then, but Thorin had eventually arranged it with Balin to have him educated with Fili and Kili (which had created quite a stir among the dwarves in Ered Luin, for to have a common boy educated alongside the princes of the line of Durin had been unheard of at the time). Thorin had funded Ori's education himself, convinced of the boy's abilities, and while Dori and Nori had kept Ori alive and guaranteed his continued presence with their hard work, it had been Thorin who had given him a future.

Thorin hadn't done it to earn the loyalty and gratitude of the Ri brothers – he had simply wished for the little Ori to have the means to take care of himself later in life (and for Fili and Ori to set a good example to Kili who tended to slack off when it came to his studies) – but he had earned it all anyway, without even fully noticing it. Nevertheless, never had he thought that Ori would once go against his will in such a blatant manner.

"I _will_ repay you your kindness one day," Ori now swore. "You funded my education and thus gave me a future, and I swear to you that I will do my best to make sure that you'll have a future as well, that you will not perish on this quest. I _will_ help Fili and Kili to protect you any way I can!"

It might have been touching had it not also been terribly infuriating and humiliating to have the three young ones giving oaths to protect him. It was Thorin who was supposed to protect Fili, Kili and Ori, not the other way around – the boys had barely begun to sprout their beards, for Eru's sake!

Thorin had rarely felt himself as betrayed and humiliated as he did now. It had never even occurred to him that Fili, Kili and Ori would betray his trust. Had someone suggested such a thing to him only an hour ago, Thorin would have been offended on their behalf. Now, though, now everything had changed. His true treasure had proved themselves capable of lying to him, capable of disobeying him. It only made matters worse that they considered their actions justified and weren't thus even regretful.

Thorin and Ori looked each other in the eye, and even though Thorin could notice the scribe's nervousness from his trembling chin and from his sweaty forehead, it wasn't Ori that looked away first.

"It is not for you to make such decisions," Thorin said finally, sternly. "I didn't secure your future for you to just throw it away. If you wish to repay me, live your life and forget all that foolishness about protecting me."

Thorin had meant for Ori to become chastised, but if anything, his words only caused a look of pure awe and admiration to spread on the scribe's face.

"You truly are the noblest of all dwarves," Ori breathed out. "You allowed a poor, orphaned boy to be educated like a prince and in exchange you only ask for that boy to _live his life_. I will emphasize your noble character in the book that I'm currently writing about you. I want everyone to know about your good deeds, as well as of your bravery!"

"Write all you like," said Thorin gruffly, embarrassed, "but forget all about protecting me. I want you to reach old age, Ori."

It was just then that Fili and Kili, sweaty and red-faced, appeared from behind the bushes that separated Thorin and Ori from the rest of the Company. When Thorin looked at them, keeping his face carefully void of any emotion, he saw that they had taken their disguises off and were now wearing their usual travel clothes, complete with their own weapons. Both were panting slightly, as if they had been in a great hurry to change their clothes before running to Thorin.

"Uncle's face is blank," Fili was now whispering to himself. "It means that he doesn't want us to know his feelings which means that he's still very much upset with us."

"If you're not here to tell me that you have decided to go back to Ered Luin," grumbled Thorin, "keep your mouths shut, turn swiftly around and go back to the Company. I have no wish to see either one of you at the moment."

"None of this is Ori's fault!" claimed Kili. "We forced him to help us, so don't blame him for anything. He played no part in us following you!"

So that's why they had been in such a hurry, to make sure that Thorin wouldn't be too stern with Ori. They had always been quite protective of their friend, hadn't they.

"Ori has already admitted that he aided you two and that he did it of his own free will," said Thorin, crossing his arms on his chest. "So you, nephew, are _lying to me once again_."

Fili and Kili winced, swallowing hard.

"Uncle Thorin, Kili just meant that-"

"For Eru's sake!" cried Thorin abruptly, losing his patience, startling all three dwarves with his sharp cry. "Do not try my patience any more! Haven't you got any sense left? Can you not hold your tongue when you have defied and humiliated me enough already! Do not forget your place – you behave like _dwarflings_, thinking this quest a suitable event for you to dress up in costumes, to play games. Get out of my sight, both of you! By Mahal, I should have you flogged for disobeying me!"

His tone was harsh as were his words, but Thorin was too upset to really care: every time he looked at his nephews, he was reminded of their bloodied corpses and the memory made him sick with horror, dizzy with fear. And just as he so often did, Thorin turned all his difficult, complicated feelings into anger which was so much easier, far more simple to deal with.

Fili and Kili had enough sense between them to beat a hasty retreat. As they disappeared behind the bushes, Thorin felt suddenly abandoned and more alone than he had in a long, long while.

* * *

"I have never been this ashamed in my entire life!" wailed Dori, his face hidden behind his gloved hand. "How could Ori, my sweet little Ori, misbehave like this? How is it possible? What could have caused his rebellion? What did I do wrong?"

They had been riding for hours now with Fili and Kili bringing up the rear. Dori had been upset the entire time, very loudly. Thorin had been equally upset, but he had done it in a much quieter manner.

Dwalin and Balin were doing their best to pretend that nothing was amiss, that Thorin wasn't riding as far away from his heirs as he was able to. They had never before witnessed such a conflict between the three Durins and were thus quite unsettled, though they pretended that this wasn't the case. They rode right behind Thorin, talking loudly about their Auntie Hedlin who had sent them a box full of biscuits for the quest. Regretfully, they had forgotten the box on the kitchen table and speculated now what kind of biscuits there would have been in the box. Dwalin was convinced that Auntie Hedlin had baked them his favourites, butter gob biscuits, while Balin insisted that she would have made them cinnamon sticks which happened to be _his_ favourites. Bofur – who was riding behind Oin, Gloin, Bifur and Bombur who were riding behind the sons of Fundin – called out and asked whether it was possible for Lady Hedlin to have baked both kinds of biscuits, and Balin admitted that, yes, that was, of course, _a_ possibility.

"But not very a likely one," Dwalin hurried to add and Balin nodded his agreement.

Balin and Dwalin's conversation prompted Bella to ask Bofur what kind of biscuits "butter gob biscuits" actually were, which in turn inspired Bombur to drop back to describe them to her in great detail. They talked about biscuits and baking in general, comparing dwarven recipes to those that hobbits liked to use, and had Thorin been in a better mood, he might have joined in their conversation, even though he prefered cooking to baking.

Behind Bella and Bombur, Dori was accusing Nori for corrupting their little brother, while the said little brother rode with Fili and Kili in the rear with Gandalf in front of them blogging their view to the rest of the Company.

All three young dwarves were feeling miserable. They didn't regret their actions and would have done it all again under similar circumstances, but that didn't mean that they had enjoyed being reprimanded and yelled at by Thorin. They all held Thorin in high regard and admired and respected him like no-one else. It had been a great blow to Fili and Kili's pride to be called dwarflings by him. Kili, in particular, had taken Thorin's words hard, and if he now sniffled occasionally and wiped his eyes on his sleeve every once in a while, others pretended not to notice.

When the sun began to set, they found a sheltered nook between two steep hills and made their camp there. The evening chores were shared between the Company in quite a fair manner and even Gandalf did his share, though no-one had really asked him to do anything, partly because he was one of the Maiar and partly because the dwarves didn't yet trust him with their food and other supplies.

Thorin placed his bag under the exact same tree where he had placed it the last time they had been here. Whilst brushing the ponies, he then stamped on a wasp, subtly, before it managed to fly and sting Minty. Again.

All evening Fili and Kili did everything they could do to please Thorin, to appease him. After doing their own share of the chores, they went to gather more firewood and even helped Bombur to prepare the supper. It was almost as if they were trying to be in every place at once, as if they were doing their best to prove their worth in one evening, to prove that they could be useful, and Thorin found that it was just on the tip of his tongue to snarl at them to _stop swarming around_. He might have done that too, but Fili and Kili weren't making any noise. When they were asked something, they answered politely and kept their voices at a reasonable level. They were on their best behaviour, really, and gave Thorin absolutely no reason to reprimand them.

After finishing his chores, Thorin spread out his travel mattress. The mattress was empty, mockingly void of one certain hobbit, next to (and with) whom he would have liked to sleep. Thorin imagined Bella laying there next to him, kissing him, soothing the pain in his heart, giving him advice on what to do with Fili and Kili, telling him that he wasn't as terrible of an uncle as he currently felt like.

He had stared at the depressing emptiness of his mattress for quite a while when Dwalin suddenly appeared by his side, shaking him out of his self-pity and gloomy thoughts.

"Quite a day, eh?" Dwalin asked.

He only received a weary nod as an answer.

Thorin crossed his arms and closed his eyes, tucking his chin against his chest in a worn fashion. He heard a quiet sigh and felt Dwalin stepping closer. Soon a warm arm was put around his shoulder in a companionable, reassuring embrace.

"Try not to worry too much, Thorin," Dwalin said quietly. "Fili and Kili are fine warriors. They'll be fine. We'll just have to... make do."

"That's what we always do."

"Aye, exactly."

Thorin sighed, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. He glanced behind them at the campfire by which his sister-sons were currently sitting with Bella and Balin helping Bombur to peel potatoes.

"You know that Fili and Kili are my greatest treasure," Thorin said, his voice barely a whisper. "You know that I couldn't bear losing them, that I would become mad with grief if that happened. So promise me, Dwalin, _promise me_ as my greatest friend, as my _brother_, promise me that you will always put Fili and Kili before me, that if it ever comes to it, you'll choose their lives rather than mine."

It was a plea born in love and desperation, but Dwalin didn't answer immediately. He just gazed at the starry sky above them with an almost thoughtful look upon his face. It took several long minutes for him to answer.

"That's one _dëgrell_ of a promise to ask, Thorin," he said eventually. "I'll keep your words in mind – that's all I can promise you."

Their discussion came to an end then, as Bombur called everyone to eat. Gandalf and the Company gathered around the campfire, handing over their wooden bowls for Bombur to fill. Thorin was offered the first few laddlefulls, but he refused them, choosing to wait instead until everyone else had had their fair share.

When Thorin finally received his share of the supper, he headed for his mattress to eat in peace, but came to an abrupt halt just as he was about to pass by Bella who was sitting by the campfire with Gandalf, Balin, Dwalin, Dori, Bofur, Nori, Fili and Kili, deciding to use the opportunity their proximity offered to say something kind to her. She wasn't yet aware of his presence, and so Thorin just stood there, looking down at her, trying desperately to think of something to say, holding his spoon in one hand and the bowl in the other.

She looked beautiful, almost too beautiful, but for some inconceivable reason she didn't seem to be admiring herself like Thorin would have done had he been her.

Her feet were bare, as usual. She had sunk her toes into dirt and Thorin would have wondered about that hadn't she once told him that she enjoyed "the feel of earth". She was eating the stew, her bowl balanced between her knees. The fire gave her coppery curls a golden shade, but she acted like she didn't notice it, simply picking leaves and twigs off the golden curls with the hand that wasn't holding the spoon, as if she couldn't quite decide whether she wanted to eat her stew or tame her tangled hair. Her fingers were small and plump and clever, just like her, and every once in a while they brushed against her generous bosom where some of her long locks had found a place to lay. From his current angle, Thorin could properly admire her breasts, accentuated by her brown bodice as they were.

Thorin's attention was drawn to her backside which was covered by her green skirt. He couldn't help but try to picture the way her arse must have bounced up and down when they had been riding. He wondered what it would be like to have her ride him instead, how it would feel like to-

"Mister Oakenshield?"

Thorin snapped his gaze back to her face upon hearing her calling his name. All those around the fire had fallen silent and Thorin saw from the corner of his eye that they were all looking at him, as was she.

Mahal, how long had he been standing there, staring?

Suddenly Thorin felt himself awkward and clumsy and far too crude to be in Bella's presence. He tried to quickly come up with something complimentary that he could say to her. He had just been admiring her, surely there was something he could say!

"Your nose makes me think of pumpkins," Thorin blurted out – and swore to himself as soon as he had said that. It had sounded much better in his head: he knew that Bella liked pumpkins and since he really liked Bella's nose, combining those two things together had seemed logical in his mind, and perhaps it was, too, but Thorin still didn't want to be comparing her nose to a dubiously shaped, orange vegetable, of all things.

Still, the comparison had already been drawn, there was no undoing it, Thorin had said it, and now all he could do was to maintain his dignity and ignore the bewildered looks that were sent his way.

"Excellent stew," he told Bombur over his shoulder as regally as he could. "My compliments."

With that, he marched to his mattress.

"Excellent?" he heard Oin huffing as grumpily as ever. "There are onions and potatoes in this stew and I detest onions, among many other things."

Thorin tensed upon hearing Oin's words: if he had learnt one thing about Bombur when on the quest for the first time, it was the fact that Bombur could be _very_ testy when it came to the food that he had cooked.

Oin, unfortunately, wasn't yet aware of this.

"Onions are not good for dwarves, I tell you!" he grumbled with audible disgust, prodding his stew with a spoon, completely unaware of the way Bifur and Bofur's eyes widened at his words. "They make this otherwise relatively good stew taste like dung."

"Like... dung?" repeated Bombur, a polite smile appearing on his face. "Dung. I didn't think my award-winning stew would taste like... dung. Thank you for the constructive criticism, Oin. Does anyone else think that my stew tastes like... dung?"

Bella, Gandalf, Thorin, Bofur and Bifur denied this, Bofur and Bifur quite vehemently, but everyone else agreed with Oin, saying that the stew really might have tasted better without the onions.

"And maybe you could add some more meat to it the next time, like some sausages," suggested Dwalin, which Bombur promised to do, the polite, frozen smile never leaving his flushed face.

All those who now agreed with Oin were given a bowl full of pony dung for breakfast. On Dwalin's bowl, there was a sausage sticking out of the dung which Bombur found to be quite a reasonable answer to "unreasonable criticism".

* * *

_A/N: Thorin isn't that good dealing with feelings. Poor him._

_Review? :)_


	9. A Dwarf, a Man and an Elf

_warnings: some mild swearing_

* * *

It was pouring rain, had been pouring rain for a few days now, and they were all drenched. Dori had asked Gandalf to "do something about the deluge" several times already, but – to the Company's disappointment – Gandalf only huffed at Dori's pleas and refused to even _try_ to stop the rain, saying something about the nature being in need of water. He was firm in his decision and didn't change his mind, not even after the sixth time they had had to stop in only so many hours for Bofur to put a new, dry cover on the axe on Bifur's forehead to prevent it from rusting. Thorin didn't really listen to the excuses Gandalf made since the nature and wizards were two things he wasn't particularly interested in, but he still did consider the wizard's reasonings to be feeble and groundless, on principle.

Gloin was going on about his socks for the third day straight, bragging about them, claiming that they had managed to stay dry. Nobody really paid him any mind since the dwarves all new his boastful nature, Bella didn't really care about socks and Gandalf had other things in his mind. This seemed to confuse Gloin and so he raised his voice, bragging louder, apparently assuming that the other's weren't commenting on his socks simply because they couldn't hear him from the sound of heavy rain.

As the rainy days went by, Bofur tried to cheer everyone up with his constant chattering, but all he managed to do was to get water in Oin's ear when the old dwarf used his ear trumpet to hear him better. Dori and Nori were still occasionally talking about their little brother. Dori wondered what had gone wrong with Ori's upbringing, what _he_ had done wrong, while Nori said – rather indignantly – that not everything had something to do with Dori and could Dori just give the poor lad some space already.

Thorin was still upset with his nephews, but he was also determined to not waste the time they had together by arguing. Fili and Kili seemed to have similar thoughts, and so the Durins behaved in a civil manner, Fili and Kili pacifying their uncle, while the said uncle tried to be less gruff with them. He reminded himself that he could alter their fate. The _grâhabunka_ was still an advantage and he was determined to keep it that way too.

Unlike the last time, Thorin's mind wasn't constantly on Smaug since he now _knew_ what would be waiting for them at their destination. He still worried, of course, but his concerns were now different.

There were some other things in his mind as well, things that certainly hadn't been there when on the quest for the first time: Thorin now knew that hobbits were quite joyful beings by nature, for instance, and that they enjoyed having fun. Keeping this in mind, it was no wonder that Thorin thought it important to let Bella see the more playful side of him. He was well aware of the fact that some people considered him rather rigid, and while it was true that he tended to be on the more serious side, he still considered his sense of humour to be relatively good.

And that's why Thorin decided to tell a joke.

While the rain poured down on them and most of the Company grumbled about being wet and cold and, Eru, _did that water have to ruin everything_, Thorin tried to come up with a joke that he could tell Bella. It took him several hours, but eventually he did reach his goal. He rehearsed his joke carefully in his mind before deciding that he was ready to tell it.

Ignoring the curious glances both Dwalin and Balin gave him, Thorin dropped back to ride next to Bella. Upon noticing him, she blushed and made to arrange her blue scarf as if she couldn't quite decide whether she wanted to cover her nose with it or not. Eventually she chose against it, letting the scarf fall around her neck and pressing her lips tightly together as if waiting for Thorin to say something impolite. They proceeded to ride together in an awkward silence.

Eventually Thorin cleared his throat.

"The other day, Miss Baggins, when I mentioned your nose, I didn't mean to imply that it looked like a pumpkin."

"So you say," Bella said with audible disbelief.

"Yes, so I say," Thorin said firmly. "It was an unfortunate misunderstanding. Your nose isn't at all like a pumpkin. It's more like a... a..."

"...a potato?"

"No, I wouldn't necessarily say a potato-"

"A beetroot then?" she said drily.

"I do not know that particular vegetable, but I doubt it. Your nose is difficult to describe, Miss Baggins. It doesn't look like any kind of a vegetable that I would recognize. I only said that your nose reminds me of pumpkins because I know that you like them."

Bella blinked and frowned but didn't say anything.

They rode in silence again.

"Would you like to hear a joke, Miss Baggins?" Thorin dared to ask, eventually.

Bella looked at him from under her wet curls.

"Well," she said slowly, "who wouldn't enjoy a good laugh every once in a while?"

"Oin, probably," he answered her inquiry. "It would take an exceptionally good joke about elves to amuse him and I doubt that he would enjoy laughing even then."

To Thorin's surprise, Bella gave a soft chuckle at that. He felt immediately taller and straightened his back with satisfaction. This was going well. She was already chuckling and he hadn't yet even told his joke!

"I have an aunt like that," Bella said wistfully. "Old Polly, people call her, but her real name is Martha Henworth-Baggins. She's the head of the Henworths and that's easy to see – it's _impossible_ to please her! I once baked _twenty-two_ different kinds of cakes for her when she popped in for tea, uninvited, unexpected, and she tasted them all with that same sour look upon her face – and as a thank you, she then said that my curtains 'could use a good wash'! A _good wash_, Mister Oakenshield! I assure you that my curtains are _always_ clean!"

Thorin didn't know how he was suppose to answer, so he didn't say anything. After her breathing had evened out, Bella gave him a curious look.

"Well, aren't you going to tell me that joke of yours?"

"I will, if you'd like to hear it, Miss Baggins."

"I would be delighted to, Mister Oakenshield."

Thorin drew in a deep breath, rehearsing the joke a couple of times in his mind to make sure that he would tell it right. Once he was ready to be funny and entertaining, he grinned at Bella in a manner that he hoped looked self-confident and not nervous in the slightest.

"A dwarf, a man and an elf," he began, "were wandering in a forest when they came upon a frog that turned out to be a fairy that granted wishes. Why the fairy was a frog, I do not know, but I assume that she liked that form and had thus chosen it for herself."

"But why, exactly, were those three wandering in that forest in the first place?" wondered Bofur out loud from behind them, quite unexpectedly.

Looking around, Thorin noticed that the entire Company had gathered around him and Bella in a close formation. He assumed that they were all eager to hear him telling a joke, they liked jokes after all and he rarely told any, and so Thorin let them be and only grumbled and glowered a little bit.

"I know not," he answered Bofur's question.

"Perhaps they were in the forest because of their occupation," suggested Balin, frowning thoughtfully. "Might they have been hewers?"

"That is possible."

"That dwarf couldn't have been very a decent one," Gloin voiced his opinion. "To fraternize with elves and men – inconceivable!"

Gandalf grumbled, while the Company murmured their agreements

"I know!" cried Kili suddenly, his dark eyes shining like brown opals. "Perhaps the man and the elf had _forced_ that dwarf into the forest – perhaps their kin were holding the dwarf's family _hostage_ and so the dwarf was _forced_ to follow the man and the elf!"

"Those sick bastards," muttered Dwalin, spitting on the ground.

"May we hear the rest of the joke, please?" asked Bella and Thorin inclined his head.

"As you wish, Miss Baggins," he promised. "As I was saying, a dwarf, a man and an elf were wandering in a forest – most likely due to the fact that the dwarf's family was being held hostage and the dwarf had thus no choise in the matter – when they met a fairy who was in a form of a frog. The fairy promised the dwarf, the man and the elf that whichever of them would find her the tallest tree would be given a spouse, a companion, for life."

"Were none of them yet married then?" asked Fili.

"And why did that fairy need a tall tree if she was a frog?" wondered Ori.

"I don't belive that they were yet married, no," mused Thorin, "nor do I know how that fairy came to that conclusion or why she needed a tall tree."

"Well it doesn't really matter, does it," said Dwalin, his manner growing impatient. "Just tell us the most important part already, Thorin: Which one of them won? Who found the tallest tree?"

Bella huffed, muttering, "Surely the dwarf won."

"Hmm, I don't think so, lass," said Balin, "though it is very kind of you to think so highly of our race. You might not have yet noticed this but we dwarves are not particularly fond of trees, so I believe that it was the _elf_ – probably one from Mirkwood – that found the tallest tree for the fairy that prefered the form of a frog."

"It was, indeed, the elf!" exclaimed Thorin, delighted that someone had already guessed the conclusion so that he didn't need to describe the whole ordeal. "And when the fairy promised to give the elf the spouse, the companion for life, the elf said that there was no need for that since he had already found the perfect spouse for himself – _that tall tree_!"

The Company bursted out laughing as one.

"That tree-shagger! guffawed Dwalin. "Oh, if only I had been there to see it!"

"Good one, Thorin!" Fili and Kili praised their uncle, reaching out to pat him in the back.

Thorin sat proudly on his pony. He hadn't anticipated this kind of success – he would have to tell this joke soon again if the others considered it to be this amusing.

Unfortunately, Bella didn't seem amused.

"I must say that I found that joke to be quite offensive," she said when Thorin asked her about it. "Quite offensive indeed. Jokes are not suppose to be _offensive_, Mister Oakenshield."

With a start, Thorin remembered that hobbits were quite fond of nature and so he hurried to say, "The frog fairy didn't allow that _vile elf_ to go anywhere near that unsuspecting tree. He never got the chance to actually shag it, Miss Baggins, so there is no need for concern. It all ended well for the tree."

Bella huffed noncommittaly.

"If it's not too much trouble, Thorin," said Gandalf thoughtfully, "would you mind telling us what happened to that poor dwarf's family? I do find myself quite curious about this kidnapping part of your joke."

* * *

One night after the raining had stopped and two nights before they were supposed to face the trolls, Thorin had a nightmare about the battle for Erebor. He dreamed of that fatal hit, of the sword piercing his chest, his left lung, breaking bones, tearing muscles, destroying nerves and blood vessels. He dreamed of gushing blood, of pain, of excruciating pain. He dreamed of dying and of Azog leaning over his mauled body with that sick, triumphant grin of his on his revolting face. In his dream, Azog took a hold of him and rolled him in a mockingly gentle manner onto his side to watch Fili who was drowning on his own blood mere feet away, horrible gurgling sounds coming from his throat. Kili's body laid there between Fili and Thorin, limp and broken. Azog reached out and turned Kili's face in Thorin's direction. Thorin saw Kili's empty gaze, his eyes were glazed over with death. Smirking, Azog leant down to kiss Kili's temple. Thorin tried to roar, but his voice only came out as soft hissing, so weakened he was.

Thorin woke up with a start. He was shivering and covered in cold sweat. His heart was pounding in his chest and he dried the tears from his eyes, scrambling to his feet to get as far away from the remnants of his nightmare as possible. He tried to calm himself and breathed heavily through his nose, while his gaze searched frantically for his nephews. It was dark and the camp was silent, but by the light of the dying embers, he was eventually able to make out Fili and Kili's forms from where they were sleeping between Dwalin and Gloin.

Quietly, he stepped closer and knelt down by them. Kili laid on his belly with his head turned to one side, snuffling and drooling a little, while Fili snored softly, lying on his back with both arms around his pillow of clothes. Thorin took his time to look at them both. With the nightmare still so fresh in his mind, he stroke Fili's cheek and curled his fingers around a few of Kili's brown locks to reassure himself that the boys truly were alive. He took comfort from the knowledge that due to the _grâhabunka_ they might stay that way, breathing, whole, alive. This time, Thorin _was not going_ to let that beast slaughter them. He _would_ find a way to prevent that.

He had his rúti bags with him, all seven of them, and he was careful to keep them dry, just in case Azog would find them earlier than he had the last time. Azog was often present in Thorin's thoughts and every time the white orc crossed his mind, Thorin's heart was filled with pure, blinding hatred

_(and fear, fear for his Fili and Kili)_

He wanted the orc _dead and destroyed_ just as much as he wanted Erebor reclaimed and rebuilt.

"Uncle?..." Kili's hoarse voice drew Thorin's attention to his younger nephew.

Kili had raised his head slightly and was now blinking drowsily up at him. There was dried drool on his cheek and his hair was tousled with sleep. He looked young, so young.

"Hush, my boy," Thorin whispered, feeling emotional enough to stroke the soft dark hair. "I didn't mean to wake you. I was just going to borrow a pair of woollen socks from your brother, my feet are getting cold. Go back to sleep."

Kili pushed himself up to his elbows, letting the kind of half-sigh, half-yawn that people let out when they have just woken up.

"You can borrow mine," he mumbled sleepily. "I have some spare ones here, somewhere..."

He had used his bag as his pillow and began to now rummage in it. He was quiet about it, so that he wouldn't wake those around them. After a moment, he presented Thorin with a pair of grey wool socks, originally Thorin's, knitted for him by Dis.

"Thank you, Kili," said Thorin softly. "Go back to sleep."

"Yeah, yeah, Thorin, you too. Don't let the jet moths bite, and all that."

While Kili resumed his usual sleeping position on his belly, Thorin stood up quietly and went to drop the wool socks onto his mattress. He then fetched a lantern from one of the Company's shared supply bags. After lighting it, he headed away from the Company, into the shadows of the trees.

Nori was on guard. He was standing in the darkness so that he could easily observe their surroundings without being blinded by lanterns or the embers. As Thorin went pass by him, they exchanged nods. The expression on Nori's face was unreadable, but Thorin knew that he had seen the way Thorin had been kneeling by his nephews – he refused to feel ashamed by this, he had every right to show affection to his heirs (even if they were asleep).

"I'll be back in twenty minutes," he told Nori because he himself had given the order that no-one was to leave the camp without informing the guard on duty of it. "Possibly in twenty-five."

"Well, that'll be one long wank," snorted Nori, "or some damn painful shitting, depending."

It was neither, actually. Instead, Thorin finally read the letters Fili and Kili had written to him. Since the letters had been written to distract him, he couldn't tell whether there was anything earnest in them, but they gave him comfort in either case so he tried not to be too bothered about it.

* * *

_A/N: A few peaceful chapters before we have some action._

_Thank you for the reviews! Feel free to let me know what you thought of this chapter! Your comments are so much fun to read. :D_


	10. The Trolls

Thorin and Fili sat against a rock, sharing a pipe. They watched as Bella hit Balin with a stick, her manner reluctant, her movements clumsy and hesitant as if she was afraid that she might hurt the old dwarf. Balin sighed and adjusted her stance, telling her patiently (for the third time that evening) that the idea of self-defence was to _defend oneself_.

"Don't be afraid to hit me," he advised her. "Your aim is to overpower me, to make me harmless. If I was trying to kill you, you would have to do better than that to defend yourself."

"But that's just it, Balin," said Bella, running a hand through her hair. "You're not _actually_ trying to kill me and so it feels wrong to try to hit you. Can't you just explain all this to me without me having to hit you? I don't really like violence, but I promise that if you were someone who was _actually_ trying to kill me, I would hit you much harder."

"Rare are those people who enjoy violence," said Balin grimly, "and thank Mahal for that. You should still know, lass, that in the wilderness fighting is not a question of whether you like violence or not but a matter of survival. Either you kill or you get killed, that's how it is, whether we like it or not. Even if you're not trying to kill someone, they might be trying to kill you or one of your companions. If you wish to survive, you _must_ learn to protect and to defend yourself – that's why we are now practising this, so please, Miss Baggins, _pay attention_."

Thorin had asked Balin to teach Bella to fight. He would have naturally liked to teach her himself, but as the idea was for her to actually learn to defend herself and not for Thorin to get aroused, it was better to have her taught by someone who didn't think that she had "a great buttock". It was an honour to be taught to fight by Balin, one of Thorin's most trusted dwarves and advisers. Many a young dwarf would have run from Iron Hills to Ered Luin _on bare feet_, if that would have given them a chance to train under one of the sons of Fundin, but Bella, of course, wasn't aware of this. Thorin wondered what she would have said had she known the kind of honour Thorin had granted her by asking Balin to train her.

He sighed and put his feet on top of his bag, leaning fully against the rock, taking as relaxed a position as he could. The bags containing all the rúti he had placed at the far edge of the camp like usually so that they wouldn't put the Company in danger.

It was now late evening, almost night, and they had just made their camp by a verdant riverside. They were only a few hours ride from the hoard of the trolls – not that anyone but Thorin was yet aware of that. Dori and Bombur were making supper and the delicious scent of grease and bacon filled Thorin's nostrils and made his stomach rumble. He could hear Oin and Gloin talking (loudly) about Gimli's bright future somewhere behind him, while Ori was focused on drawing Dwalin on his black sketchbook. The warrior was posing in a stiff stance (and only because Balin had asked it of him). Bifur was entertaining Nori, Kili and Bofur with the shadow figures that he made with his hands and the merriment of those four was so audible that Bella casted envious looks in their direction whenever Balin wasn't looking.

Gandalf was nowhere to be seen, but that was all due to Thorin who had done all that he could to infuriate the wizard. His plan had been to get Gandalf to ride ahead, towards the trolls, closer to them, as he wanted the Company to become aware of the nearby danger as soon as possible. Since Gandalf's horse was much faster than any of the ponies and since Thorin knew that the wizard could take care of himself even when spying on trolls, he had wanted Gandalf to be the one to discover the signs of destruction the trolls had left behind. It would take Gandalf about two hours to reach the trolls and approximately the same amount of time to come back to inform the Company of his findings, which meant that the wizard would be back some time during the second watch. If Thorin then ordered the Company to depart immediately, they would reach the hoard just before the dawn which would naturally be the best time to attack trolls.

So far Thorin's plan had worked very well. Gandalf had eventually got annoyed enough with him to unknowingly follow his plan. While Thorin sat there smoking and watching Bella with Fili by his side, Gandalf was riding straight towards the troll hoard, grumbling to himself about "ignorant, infuriating dwarves".

Thorin had deliberated very carefully whether he should lead the Company to face the trolls or try to find a roundabout route. He wasn't particularly eager to fight the trolls again, but there were three reasons for him to believe that he ought to do so.

The first one of the reasons had everything to do with duty and honour: As an experienced warrior, it was more convenient for him and his dwarves to fight the trolls than to let some unsuspecting traveller try and face them on their own. It was his _duty_ to protect those who couldn't do it themselves and Thorin had always taken all his duties very seriously. He had urged the Company forward in a much faster pace than the last time and thus they had reached the troll valley almost two full days earlier than planned, two days earlier than the last time, just as Thorin had hoped they would: they were here just in time to save "a farmer and his family" from tree hungry trolls, though none but Thorin yet knew that.

Then there was the second, less altruistic reason – the matter of Orcrist. Thorin had grown accustomed to Orcrist and he did cherish the hope that he might get his hands on it again. It was a fine sword, so fine, in fact, that Thorin was ready to overlook the fact that it had been made by one of the Deceitfuls. Last time, from elves to trolls, the sword had finally found its way to him as if by the will of gods themselves. Thorin earnestly believed that it was he who was meant to yield Orcrist, and to get Orcrist for himself again, the trolls had to be killed so that Nori would find their hoard and Thorin could then take Orcrist from that hoard.

Naturally Thorin could have just sneaked into the hoard without the trolls having been any wiser, but the sudden appearance of Orcrist would have raised questions among the Company. He wouldn't have been able to explain how he had known about the existence of the hoard or why he had decided to put himself at such risk by going into a hoard that – to the Company's ken – was void of any treasures. The last time, they had searched the hoard simply out of curiosity, they hadn't known for certain that they would find anything of value there, and it would have been out of character of Thorin to abandon his Company simply for a chance to enter a reeking troll hoard.

Which lead to the third reason why Thorin thought it necessary to face the trolls: he was desperate to avoid questions, and if he would pretend that he had been taken by surprise by the trolls, it would become that much less likely for anyone to figure out that he had been granted a _grâhabunka_.

Thorin had done research on trolls back in Ered Luin. He had gathered all available information of them and so he now knew that armpits, navels, elbows and gaps between toes were any troll's weak spots. If one was to hit those parts hard enough, any a troll would be left gasping in pain which would make them far easier to kill – still, there were naturally many risks when fighting a troll, wounded or not, and the trolls were not to be underestimated under any circumstances.

Thorin knew that the Company wouldn't survive the whole quest without fighting. No matter what he would do, no matter how many precautions he would take, the orcs _would_ catch up with them sooner or later, eventually, and he considered it to be better for Bella and Ori to have simple-minded trolls as their first real opponents rather than bloodthirsty orcs on even more bloodthirsty wargs. As far as fights went, fighting tree trolls would be as good of a first fight as any. It would be good practise for the Company in any case, it would give them experience on how to fight together.

Fili cleared his throat, bringing Thorin back to the present. Thorin handed the pipe over to his nephew who proceeded to puff the smoke in his mouth – neither one of them inhaled the smoke, both preferring to puff it as a way of tasting it.

"Listen, Uncle," Fili said, quietly enough for only Thorin to hear, "I've been meaning to ask you about something for a while now..."

He fell silent as if waiting for a permission to continue – it was a sure sign that whatever Fili wanted to talk about was very important to him and that he was hoping to get Thorin's full attention before saying anything more. Thorin tore his gaze away from Bella and gave his nephew an assessing look.

"What is it then?"

"Well, it's just..." Fili began. "It's just about this quest and my participation on it, and Kili's as well. I'm sure you remember the way you made me and Kili train for years for this quest, Thorin, for closer to a decade, in fact. You said that you wanted us to be able to take care of ourselves when on the quest. You always seemed so... well, so _proud_ of us, thinking that we would accompany you when you would leave to reclaim Erebor."

That was all true. Thorin had never made it a secret how proud he was of his heirs, and at his request, Dwalin and Balin had been giving Fili and Kili additional survival and fighting lessons for closer to eight years, just to prepare the boys for the quest. In addition to that, Thorin had taught them many useful skills himself.

"And then, out of nowhere," Fili continued, "barely two months before we were supposed to depart, you just suddenly changed your mind and told us that we couldn't come with you after all. You told us that you wanted to keep us safe, and while I can understand that, I'd also like to know what it was that made you change your mind: Didn't you consider us good enough? Weren't we capable enough to accompany you? Thorin, surely we are faring better at least than some other members of the Company!"

As if to emphasize Fili's words, Bella happened to trip over her own feet just then, falling face first down onto the ground, snapping her practise stick in half with the weight of her body. Balin helped her up to her feet before presenting her with a new stick.

Fili gave the pipe back to Thorin with a sigh. Thorin took the offered item, searching desperately for words. He couldn't mention the _grâhabunka_ and so he didn't know how to answer, how to voice his feelings, his thoughts – words always escaped him when he needed them most. Thankfully, Fili knew him well enough to give him time to form an answer.

"I'm selfish," Thorin said eventually, awkwardly, fingering the skilfully made carvings on the pipe. "That's all the reason I'm currently going to give you, Fili. I changed my mind because I'm _selfish_, not because I found you lacking. You are capable warriors, both of you, but it is as I've said: I would be destroyed if you and your brother died. It would be the end of me, one way or the other."

"Why are you so intent on thinking that we're going to die? _We can fight_, Thorin, you know we can, and I think you should trust us more. Seriously, what's the worst thing that's going to happen on this quest, besides Smaug? We might encounter some elves or orcs, sure, but-"

Fili's sentence was cut off by Dwalin's sudden shout,

"_Trolls!_"

Thorin and Fili were on their feet in an instant, drawing their swords.

It turned out that Thorin didn't have to pretend to be taken by surprise by the trolls. He was, truly and completely, taken by surprise by them. Whilst he had assumed that the trolls would be somewhere near their hoard like the last time, Bert, William and Tom had actually been dabbling their feet in the river not too far from the Company's camp – a distance that was a two-hour pony ride for a dwarf wasn't that long at all for a troll, and from the trolls' point of view, the dwarves were now practically in their backyard.

The tree trolls had been drawn closer to the camp by the smell of bacon and by the voices of the dwarves. Upon noticing all the "lovely fleshy things" sitting around the small clearing, the trolls had raced into the camp to pick up some dwarves and Dwalin had barely managed to shout a warning before two giant hands had closed around him and lifted him up in the air.

"No eating before dinner, Tom!" said the tallest of the trolls, slapping the troll that was about to bite Dwalin's head off. "We'll eat together, all well-mannered like, like mama taught us."

"Aw, but Bert," complained Tom, "it ain't right to make others starve! Me guts are rumbling and mama ain't here to see if I take a small bite."

"You'll eat when the food is _cooked_, Tom, and that's final! Raw dwarf ain't good for ya."

The trolls didn't have more time to discuss eating Dwalin, as the dwarves were already upon them, fighting, trying to save their friend. Thorin shouted orders in Khuzdul, telling everyone to aim for "the navels, armpits, nostrils and gaps between toes". He slashed the trolls' toes and any other part that he could reach, while the others around him did the same and Dwalin wriggled and tried to free himself from Tom's grasp.

The fight lasted for good ten minutes. The dwarves were _actually winning_, but then the trolls threatened to tear Dwalin apart, just like they had done with Bella the last time, and everything came to a halt.

"Don't you _dare_, Thorin..." grumbled Dwalin, looking Thorin steadily in the eye.

Thorin swallowed and glared at the trolls.

Then he dropped his sword onto the ground in a surrender.

"Damn it, Thorin, I told you _not to_!"

The Company was quick to follow Thorin's example.

Weaponless, they were now all tied up and put into sacks, just like the last time. Bert wanted to go home to eat and so the trolls piled all the sacks in their arms and carried Bella and the dwarves away from the Company's camp, all the way into their own camp. It took them about forty minutes to do so and the dwarves shouted curses at them the whole way there.

The camp of the trolls looked pretty much the same to Thorin as it had looked the last time. There was the paddock for ponies – thankfully empty, currently – and the large black pan, made (poorly) out of wrought iron. The Company was laid down onto the exact same spot as the last time. The ground was hard and cold under them and the sacks smelt like rotten fish.

While the other two trolls began to light the fire, Bert selected dwarves to roast. He looked at Bombur with appreciation and hummed with content as he took in Dori's bulk.

"Blimey," he breathed when he noticed Bella. "You're _female_, ain't ya?"

Bella squeaked in terror and Thorin wriggled forward to hide her behind him, but Bert poked him aside with ease, grabbing Bella. The force of the poke pushed Thorin against the ground, hard, and as he was unable to put out his hands, he hit his head on a sharp rock. He must have lost his consciousness then, for when he came to, there were several concerned voices calling him.

"-rin?" he heard Balin.

"Uncle?" Kili was hissing, kicking him repeatedly in the calf. "Thorin? Thorin? _Uncle_!"

"Wake up, you lazy sod," grumbled Dwalin. "Wake up, or I'll season you myself."

To the great relief of those around him, Thorin managed to sit up. His head ached terribly and there was a bleeding wound on his hairline, but he forced his eyes to stay open and took in the situation: the dwarves were just as they had been, in their sacks on the ground, but Bella was being held on Bert's open palm high above them. All tree trolls were studying her intently, prodding her with their forefingers.

"I'm- I'm a hobbit," Bella answered some question the trolls had asked her, her voice high and unsteady.

She looked down at the dwarves. When she saw that Thorin was sitting up with the others, her eyes filled with an emotion that could only be described as relief, though they widened immediately afterwards when she noticed the blood on his face. Thorin offered her a wry, reassuring smile before resuming to glare at the trolls.

"You hear that, Bill, Tom – we've got ourselves a _female_ dwarffit!" Bert said. "I hear they taste better than the male ones, but rare they are too, so rare."

"It ain't as hairy as some of the others," commented Bill, his gaze flickering from Bella to the dwarves.

"Uh, yes, t-that's because I'm a hobbit," explained Bella. "Not a- a dwarf or a 'dwarffit' but a hobbit, a Baggins of Bag End, in fact. And – and you shouldn't, uh, you shouldn't eat us, any of us!"

"Why not?" asked Tom, scratching his head in a confused manner. "We're hungry, little dwarffit. You ain't more than a mouthful, but you'd do for a quick snack."

"Uh, yes, I might, but you really shouldn't eat us," argued Bella, sounding a bit breathless, glancing at the dwarves. "You shouldn't, because we... because we, uh..."

"I know why not!" exclaimed Bill unexpectedly, clapping his hands together in a loud bang. "I know this all good like: if you've got a male and a female, and if you put them in the same sack and shake that sack _real hard_, they'll breed and you'll get little ones to eat, a whole herd of them!"

It was one of the stupidest things Thorin had ever heard and even the other two trolls seemed to agree with him.

"Where'd you hear that then?" asked Bert, looking doubtful.

"Mama told me," claimed Bill proudly and that, to Thorin's disbelief, was enough to convince both Tom and Bert.

The idea of a herd of dwarves seemed to excite the three trolls. They opened Bella's sack eagerly and began to discuss which one of the male dwarves they wanted to make "a herd of cub dwarves with the female dwarffit". Tom suggested Bombur since he was the largest one of the dwarves and would thus make the largest "cubs". The others agreed, but since Bombur didn't fit in the sack with Bella, they had to choose another dwarf. Tossing Bombur aside, Bill pointed at Dwalin and Kili, suggesting that one of them would do nicely since they didn't have as much hair as the others and their cubs would thus be easier to clean. Bert disregarded this idea, claiming that hairless male dwarves could be ill and saying that he, at least, wasn't going to eat ill dwarf cubs since he didn't want to get sick.

While they talked, Thorin tried to focus his thoughts. He felt nauseous and his vision was a bit blurry, but he ignored all that, trying to come up with a way to get them free. Balin was giving him worried glances, while Fili, Kili, Gloin and Dwalin had placed themselves between him and the trolls at some point.

"Smell 'em to find the potentest one," urged Bill the other trolls from where he was sniffing Dori, Nori and Ori. "The males all smell related – these three even smell like they have the same mama!"

"So they do," agreed Bert, leaning down to sniff at the dwarves as well.

The tree trolls sniffed every dwarf very carefully, their big noses dripping thick, warm snot on the Company. Eventually Bill pointed a finger at Kili and Fili.

"Those two smell almost the same," he claimed. "They has the same mama. And that one," he pointed at Thorin, "smells like he could be their papa!"

"Aww," cooed Tom, prodding Kili gently, causing Thorin to let out a growl. "A papa dwarf and his two cubs! Can we eat 'em first, Bert?"

"We can eat the cubs," promised Bert, "but since we now know that that one has managed to sire two little ones before, we should put _him_ in the same sack with the female dwarffit – he has children, so he's potent and can make us a herd of little dwarf cubs to eat."

When Bert reached for Thorin, he was met with as much resistance as thirteen dwarves could give him, bound in their sacks as they were.

After a few minutes, Thorin found himself in Bella's sack, pressed against her from head to toe in a quite awkward manner. While the Company bellowed threats and insults at the trolls, Bert took a hold of Bella and Thorin's sack and gave them a few "real hard" shakes, spinning them above his head for several long minutes.

Thorin didn't know it, but the last time, the trolls had done this to the farmer and his wife. Because the shaking hadn't then worked and there had been no little human cubs crawling out of the sack by morning, the trolls hadn't bothered to try it again with the Company a few nights later. This time, though, they hadn't yet attacked the farmer's family and so, unfortunately for Bella and Thorin, Bill hadn't had the chance to voice his theory, let alone to test it.

When Bert eventually stopped spinning the sack, Bella and Thorin were both wheezing. Thorin was distantly aware of the way the trolls decided to leave them "to roost", but as soon as the sack was lowered down onto the ground and let go off, he toppled over, taking Bella with him. Bella was white as a sheet and had splatters of Thorin's blood on her hair and face. Thorin managed to turn his head away from her only _just so_ before he was sick all over the side of their shared sack. His head was throbbing with pain and he was seeing black spots.

By the time Bella began to talk about parasites to save the Company from getting roasted, Thorin laid limp and silent on the ground. To the great distress of his nephews, he had lost consciousness.

* * *

When Thorin opened his eyes, Gandalf was leaning over him. The forest was shining with drops of sun and morning dew, and the Company had gathered around Thorin and Gandalf. Kili was grasping him by the arm and Thorin could see the three trolls, turned into stone, frozen in their last stances some ten feet away.

Thorin now found out that his plan had been succesful in a sense that Gandalf had indeed found signs of trolls. They had lead him to the troll hoard, and by the time he had reached it, the trolls had marched right by him carrying the Company. Neither the trolls nor the Company had noticed him and so Gandalf had followed them close by. Bella had bought them time by talking about parasites, and as soon as the first rays of sunlight had been casted upon the forest, Gandalf had finally acted and turned the trolls into stone. Then he had hurried to free the Company and to heal Thorin.

As Fili and Dwalin helped him to his feet, Thorin thought that Mahal certainly wasn't making him any allowances the second time around. If the beginning of the _grâhabunka_ was this much more difficult compared to the events that had transpired on the quest the first time around, Thorin had to wonder how much harder the rest of their journey would be. Still, his plan to fight the trolls might have failed, but the final outcome had been exactly what he had been hoping for: the trolls were no more, the farmer and his family had been spared, Orcrist would be his once again – and no-one was making any mentions of the _grâhabunka_, no-one suspected a thing.

Once they had searched the troll hoard and once Thorin had claimed Orcrist for himself, he began to lead the Company back to their camp, brushing off the concerns the others had for his well-being. Since they were here a few days earlier than they were supposed to, the orcs hadn't yet caught up with them, but Thorin knew that it was only a matter of time before they would do so.

"We have to make haste," he declared. "It's a long walk back to our camp and we are vulnerable, more or less unarmed as we are."

On their way back, they went by the house in which the farmer and his family lived. When Thorin had seen the place the last time, there had been nothing left but blackened ruins. Now, instead of the ruins, there was a small, white house, surrounded by some kind of a garden. There was a clothesline hanging between two apple trees and someone had hung tiny socks, striped aprons and worn trousers on it. A wisp of smoke was coming out of the chimney and a sow and a couple of pink piglets were grunting contentedly in their well-kept pigsty near the gate.

"Have there ever been piglets as muddy and happy as that, I wonder," said Kili, smiling at the pigs as they passed by them.

"Ask your uncle," snickered Dwalin. "He knows all there is to know about piglets - he's been living with two for the past five decades after all!"

* * *

_A/N: I hope this chapter wasn't too anticlimatic._

_Thanks for the reviews! They keep me going._


	11. The Abduction

_A/N: I'm so sorry, I accidentally posted this chapter twice! There's no chapter 12 yet, but this chapter is new._

* * *

To Thorin's confusion, it appeared that Bella had found the way he had tried to shield her from the trolls quite admirable. Even though the trolls had managed to grab her, she appreciated his protective gesture – she told him as much, even going as far as actually thanking him and calling him "brave". Thorin opened and closed his mouth in astonishment, but try as he might, no words formed and so he stayed silent in the face of her admiration. Bella didn't seem to mind his taciturnity and only gave him a smile laced with patience and understanding, as if she had already become familiar with his introverted nature. She still had Thorin's blood on her face and a bit of his vomit on her hair, but not even that seemed to affect her good mood.

As they walked forward, Bella stayed by Thorin's side for once, chattering about this and that, and Thorin did his absolute best not to drive her away. She asked about Fili and Kili's childhood and since Thorin found that particular subject pleasant enough to talk about, he shared some of his memories with her quite eagerly. Eventually, when it began to seem like she wasn't about to leave his side, Thorin dared to began to ask questions of his own, about her interests, about her family and her life in general (oblivious to his nephews and the sons of Fundin who were all listening in on their exchange closely but subtly, looking from him to her speculatively and with great interest), and Bella in turn seemed to be encouraged by his slightly increased talkativeness. So they continued talking while walking and Thorin was actually taken off-guard when they suddenly stepped onto the clearing on which they had made their camp the evening before.

Due to the sleepless night they had had, they were all exhausted, but instead of allowing the Company to eat and to rest and to wash off the troll snot, Thorin ordered them to gather their possessions and to prepare to leave. He had no idea how close the orcs were to them and he wanted for the inevitable confrontation to be on his terms. He had no intention to let the orcs attack the Company in their sleep or during bathing.

"We will rest when we reach an area more sheltered," Thorin declared, his voice leaving no room for arguments. "If there are creatures like trolls in these woods, we should not linger here."

The Company obeyed him, though some of the dwarves whined and grumbled to themselves. Thankfully, the grumbling was silenced the moment Bombur digged into one of the food bags and threw everyone a couple of sausages and wheat biscuits to take the worst edge off the hunger.

The food Bombur had prepared in the evening had been eaten by badgers and a fox, judging from the tracks, and he was very upset about that.

"Such wasted art!" he said, wringing his hands. "The food meant for stout, magnificent dwarrows (and a burglar and a wizard) – all _gorged_ without a hint of appreciation!"

"Nature can be cruel sometimes," mused Bofur, holding his hat in his hand, looking down at the mess the animals had left behind.

Bifur patted Bombur in the back, munching his biscuit.

* * *

Minty was quick on her feet after resting the whole night. Thorin looked down at her mane with appreciation and decided to reward her later with a couple of carrots. Unlike dwarves, ponies did like vegetables, that Thorin had learnt.

Gandalf was bringing up the rear since he was angry with Thorin yet again, but this time it truly wasn't Thorin's fault: they had been arguing about going to Rivendell and Gandalf had been even more unreasonable than usually, while Thorin had been as patient with the wizard as could be expected. Gandalf may have been one of the Maiar, but he was blind to the deceitful ways of elves. He was fooled by their beautiful features, he believed the pleasant words they said. Gandalf trusted elves, he didn't know them like Thorin did and now that Thorin had a choice in the matter, he was _not going_ to take his Company into an enemy territory, no matter how hard the wizard was trying to pressure him into doing so.

Last time, the Company had been captured by Mirkwood elves, but the elven lord Elrond, too, had tried to stall them. Mahal only knew what the elves of Rivendell would have done to the members of the Company hadn't they escaped when they did!

And to think that Gandalf was trying to lure them into such a place yet again!

Thorin turned his head to shoot the wizard as dark a glower as he was able to. Gandalf ignored him pointedly, choosing to converse with Bifur instead, and Thorin resumed staring ahead.

Just thinking about elves and their traitorous ways made Thorin's mood darken. How could Gandalf even suggest that he should take his Company, his friends, his _sister-sons_ to a place resided by _elves_! The image of a wide-eyed Bella looking at the elven buildings with pure awe was burned into Thorin's mind. He couldn't help but think of all the horrible things that could have happened to her had she decided to stay with the elves the last time instead of following the Company.

And Fili and Kili, then – they were still young and thus they were easily influenced. The last time, Thorin had noticed the admiring glances they had kept stealing at the fair maidens of Rivendell. Those glances had greatly worried him, for while it was perfectly normal to admire beauty, he would have assumed that his boys would have known better than to admire _elven_ beauty. Elven magic was harmful and powerful, that he had seen many a time during his lifetime.

Thorin clenched the reins in his hands.

"Fili, Kili – come here," he called over his shoulder to where Fili and Kili were riding with Bella, their ponies so close to hers that they were penning her neatly in between them.

His voice was perhaps a bit sterner than necessary and both boys gave a start, looking extremely guilty all of a sudden. Bowing their heads, they spurred their ponies forward to ride by Thorin's side, passing by the snoozing Ri brothers and the bickering sons of Fundin.

"Don't blame Fili," pleaded Kili in a low voice as soon as he reached Thorin.

"No, no, _do_ blame me," Fili hurried to say. "Kili did nothing – it was all my idea, really."

"In either case, Uncle, we meant nothing by it. It was for just a bit of fun, thoughtless though it may have been."

"We are very sorry and we hereby promise that we won't do it again, ever!"

"Never ever will we do it again!"

"See that you don't," said Thorin, though he had no idea what Fili and Kili were talking about. "You are princes of the line of Durin and you should act like it at all times."

"Of course, Uncle Thorin."

"We will, Sir."

Thorin looked at them both hard and for long enough to make them squirm on their saddles. Then he began to lecture them on the deceitful ways of elves, hoping that his speech would make a difference so that, this time, neither Fili nor Kili would find any an elf attractive if they happened to come across one during the course of the quest.

The lecture continued for good five hours, and by the time they finally reached the hill on top of which Thorin wanted the Company to make camp, Fili and Kili were both glassy-eyed. Noticing this, Thorin sighed to himself – he could only hope that their powers of concentration would improve in time.

The slope was steep and bare, and while Thorin found it lacking in many ways, he was also well aware of the fact that it would take them at least four days to reach anything that could offer a defensive position as good as this. That was four days they didn't have as the orcs could catch up with them in any minute. That's why Thorin now guided the Company uphill, even though Balin appeared by his side to suggest that they should just ride around it to spare the ponies.

Thorin came to a halt when they reached the summit. Minty was breathing hard, her warm flanks expanding and contracting perceptibly with each breath she took, and Thorin was quick to dismount, giving her a few gentle pats on the neck.

"We'll make our camp here," he said out loud, looking around, already making plans on where to place Kili and the rest of the Company when the orcs would attack.

They would stay here until the orcs would catch up with them. They would see the approaching enemy from afar and the wargs would die long before reaching the top of the hill, well-aimed dwarven arrows would guarantee that. Without wargs, orcs were always beatable.

"Already, laddie?" asked Balin, shielding his eyes as he looked up at the sky where the sun wasn't yet even close to setting. "Isn't this a bit early? There are still several hours of daylight left."

"We had a long night," grumbled Thorin. "We need rest."

No-one disagreed. Quite the opposite, actually.

* * *

Thorin had hoped that, this time, the brown wizard wouldn't make an appearance since one wizard was already more than enough to make him grit his teeth. Unfortunately, Radagast the Brown paid no heed to Thorin's secret wishes.

The Company had stayed on the hill for a full day when Radagast and his rabbits could be seen coming uphill.

"One of your friends, _wizard_?" Thorin said accusingly, while the rest of the Company gathered around him to look at the approaching sleigh.

"Indeed," said Gandalf, an unreadable look upon his face. "It seems like Radagast the Brown has decided to pay us a visit. Quite curious, quite curious indeed. I wonder what it is that has brought him this far away from his forest."

"Are those- _are those giant rabbits_?" squeaked Nori, startled, taking several hasty steps backwards, his bowl half full of porridge slipping out of his grasp down onto the ground.

Many a look of sympathy were sent his way. It was a well-known fact that Nori had been cursed with a fear of rabbits as a little dwarfling when a rabbit had bitten him. Some found this particular fear of his hilarious, but those who dared to laugh out loud were quickly silenced by either Dori's fist or an insult given to them by Ori who could be quite sharp-tongued when necessary.

"Gandalf!" cried the brown wizard, bringing his giant rabbits to a halt right in the middle of the camp, knocking over Dwalin's card house to the warrior's great exasperation.

Grunting with scorn, Thorin turned pointedly away, choosing to ignore both wizards, as he wasn't the least bit interested in their wizarding business. While Gandalf and Radagast conversed, Thorin kept a close eye on the surroundings of the hill, readying himself to face the orcs.

And yes, just like the last time, orcs turned up not too long after Radagast's arrival. Thorin noticed them the moment they came into sight, bursting out of the forest. There were several of them, all of them on wargs, and Thorin gave them a quick, assessing look.

"To arms!" he then bellowed, only a heartbeat before the first howl pierced the air.

The Company sprung to action at once. Following Thorin's orders, they grabbed their bows and arrows, taking their positions on top of the hill. This time, Thorin had made sure to bring everyone a bow and a quiver full of arrows, despite the fact that not many dwarves were that good at using them. He hadn't brought ones for Fili and Kili since he hadn't known that they would be joining the Company, but Kili had naturally brought his own and Bella didn't hesitate to give hers to Fili.

When the orcs approached, the Company began to shoot the wargs, aiming for eyes and muzzles. Kili was _outstanding_ when it came to archery and rarely had Thorin witnessed his skills in action like he did now. Kili's arrows went flying, flashing past everything but their goal, hitting wargs with precision, maiming them, killing them. Compared to Kili, all the other dwarves were clumsy like dwarflings using bows for the very first time. Thorin and Dwalin managed to _harm_ three wargs between them in the time it took Kili to _kill_ six on his own – Thorin felt his heart swelling with pride for his nephew.

With their combined efforts (and with a little bit of help from Gandalf and Radagast), the Company managed to kill all of the wargs before they reached the camp. As soon as the last one of the wargs fell, Thorin dropped his bow and drew his sword. Letting out a battle cry, he then charged down the hill and attacked the first orc that came his way.

Blades clashed against each other with clear, metallic sounds, cries of pain and anger filled the air. With adrenaline pumping through his veins, Thorin hit the orcs with skill and barely noticed the few wounds he got in return. His mind was fully focused on the task at hand. He thrusted a glowing Orcrist right through his opponents throat, and when he drew the sword back, warm blood spurted from the wound, wetting his chest, but Thorin paid it no mind. In this moment, he wasn't Uncle Thorin nor Thorin the blacksmith, he was Thorin Oakenshield, the experienced warrior who had been forced to fight for his people one way or the other ever since the tender age of forty.

Dwalin was fighting on his left, Fili on his right. Even Bella was occupied, defending herself with Sting, determined but unskilled. The orc that was fighting Bella was bald and as ugly as the rest of his kind. He was hissing and leering at her with his toothless mouth. With one well-aimed hit, he managed to disarm her and left her defenceless, open for his strike. The orc lifted his black sword to give her the fatal hit – his head hit the ground only moments before his sword and body. Bella gave Thorin a wide-eyed look, before she realized to pick up her fallen sword. Thorin turned his back on her and continued fighting, stepping over the orc he had just beheaded.

It wasn't a quick fight but it was over sooner than Thorin had expected. He counted the dead orcs and came to the satisfying conclusion that none had managed to escape, none had survived. None had gone to Azog.

Thorin cleaned his sword on the grass and sheathed it. He straightened his back and had just turned to look at his Company to make sure that none of his friends were hurt when something went flashing by him, almost hitting him, rustling his clothes, ruffling his hair. Taken aback, Thorin realized that it had been Radagast the Brown and his stupid rabbits. He glowered at the wizard's receding form, cursing all kinds of wizards in his mind.

It took him a moment to realize that Radagast wasn't the only one on the sleigh. No, there was someone – a slumped form – secured on the wizard's front, someone Thorin recognized very well.

Radagast the Brown had just left. And he had taken Kili with him – Radagast the Brown had just abducted Kili!

Beyond rage, Thorin was on top of the hill before he knew it. He snatched the first bow he saw and aimed an arrow at Radagast's head. He would have hit too, hadn't Gandalf poked him in the side with his shaft in the last moment thus sending the arrow astray.

"Young Kili was injured," Gandalf answered Thorin's accusations, grasping Thorin by the arm. "I asked Radagast to take him to Rivendell where Lord Elrond can care for him. Your nephew is quite safe, I assure you. He has not been _abducted_."

Thorin wrenched himself free from the wizard's grasp and would have looked for another arrow, but the brown wizard had already disappeared into the forest, taking Kili with him, and so it was too late to try and stop him by shooting.

"How badly was my brother injured?" demanded Fili.

"One of the orcs threw a rock at him," Gloin knew to tell before Gandalf had the chance to answer. "Didn't like Kili's skill with the bow, apparently. I got that bastard with my axe immediately afterwards, cut his head in half, I did. Kili was a bit dazed, but seemed otherwise fine – untill Gandalf put his hand on his eyes and _made_ him fall asleep. It was Gandalf who made Kili unconscious, not any an orc!"

Everyone turned to look at Gandalf who coughed a bit, looking uncomfortable.

"Gandalf?" Bella's voice was hesitant. "Is that true?"

"Why would you do something like that?" asked Fili, his tone dangerously low.

"The wizard's motives are obvious," Thorin said coldly. "I refused to go to Rivendell, to _elves_, and so the wizard decided to force my decision by using my young nephew as a bait."

"I wouldn't phrase it quite like that," said Gandalf evasively. "I merely guided your step, my dear dwarrow, though I admit that I may have done it in a more dramatic manner than strictly necessary. In any case, there is no need for concern. Kili is now merely sleeping and he will be well cared for in Rivendell, as will you as soon as we'll get there."

Raising his hand to halt any action Fili might have taken against the wizard, Thorin breathed hard and tried to remind himself why it wouldn't be a good idea to attack one of the Maiar. Frowning, he then made sure that no other member of the Company had been harmed during the fight. Apart from a few scratches and minor wounds, no-one had been, fortunately.

By now, Thorin was too upset and angry to speak out loud, and so he gave the Company the order to prepare to leave immediately by signing it in Iglishmêk. He heard Balin putting the order into words for Bella to understand. His heart was heavy with the knowledge that his Kili had just been taken into an enemy territory, unconscious and alone. Gandalf didn't understand it, but Kili was as good as abducted.

* * *

_A/N: Thorin doesn't like wizards, nor elves, but I suppose everyone already knew that. :D_

_Thanks to those twelve lovely people who reviewed the last chapter! I really appreciate how you took the time to share your thoughts with me. :)_


	12. Developments

Worry was gnawing at Thorin, making him edgy and impatient. He was desperate to reach Kili as soon as possible, to see for himself that the boy hadn't been gravely injured, to make sure that neither Radagast nor the elves had harmed him. If Kili had come to any harm, Thorin would _make them pay_, that he swore by his honour. A gentle breeze caressed his face, as if the gods themselves were trying to soothe him, to assure him that everything would turn out fine in the end, but Thorin didn't feel reassured at all.

The ponies had been spooked by the wargs and Thorin, Fili, Dwalin, Nori, Gloin and Gandalf were now trying to calm them down. Thorin pet their necks, reassuring them that the wargs couldn't hurt them, that the beasts had all been slaughtered. One pony after another, he rubbed the calming spot on their foreheads, singing them some of the lullabies he had used to sing to two chubby little dwarflings a long, long time ago. The wind was thankfully blowing from the east and so it was carrying the scent of the wargs away from the spooked ponies and not towards them. (Ordinarily Thorin would have piled the carcasses and the orcs and burnt them instead of leaving them to rot, but now he had no time for that since he had a nephew to save.)

It took a relatively long time, but eventually the ponies were manageable once more. The Company had lost a lot time by calming the ponies down, however necessary though it may have been, and Thorin tried to now estimate how far ahead of the Company Kili and Radagast were, how close to Rivendell they had already got. It was a four-hour ride to Rivendell, or so Gandalf claimed, and so he had to come to the conclusion that Kili probably already was in Rivendell, considering how fast Radagast's rabbits had been.

The atmosphere among the Company was gloomy and downcast. No-one was talking to Gandalf, with the exception of Gandalf who let out occasional sighs and muttered to himself in a language Thorin didn't understand. The dwarves all felt the absence of one of the princes greatly and Dwalin – who had sworn loyalty to the line of Durin at the age of seventy-four when he and Thorin had become blood brothers – had taken Kili's abduction personally. He would have cut Gandalf's beard off hadn't Thorin given him a direct order not to touch the wizard: if Kili had been harmed in any way because of Gandalf's actions, Thorin reserved the right to retaliate for himself.

"The inexperienced riders should not be riding on their own," Nori said to Thorin, giving Ori and Bofur pointed looks. "The ponies are still too skittish for that, they have to be approached and ridden with confidence and skill. An inexperienced rider would be a danger to both parties. Since we must ride, every inexperienced rider should thus share a pony with one of the experienced ones."

"See to it then," Thorin said irritably. "Surely I don't have to pair you up, or will you be waiting for me to lift you up onto the saddles as well?"

With a sharp gesture, he then motioned for Fili to follow him. While Nori and the rest of the remaining Company began to argue about who should ride with whom, Thorin and Fili went to fetch Kili's arrows, plucking them from the carcasses. Once they had gathered most of the fine arrows, they went back to the Company on the top of the hill.

"We'll leave in three minutes," Thorin declared in a curt manner. "Be ready by then."

The dwarves hurried to gather their possessions. The ponies were already saddled and it didn't take too long for everyone to be ready to leave. Ori climbed to sit in front of Nori, while Bofur shared a pony with Bifur. Fili, Dwalin, Oin and Gloin took the task of holding the reins of the ponies that had no riders.

Just as Thorin was about to mount, he was tugged at the sleeve. Looking at his side, annoyed at the interruption, he saw that it was Bella who was standing next to him. He softened his features immediately and wished that there was no glare in his eyes – Dis had used to complain that he looked like he was glaring even when he wasn't. Letting go off the saddle and removing his foot from the stirrup, Thorin gave Bella his attention.

"What is it, Miss Baggins?"

Bella was clutching her left arm with her right hand. She looked nervous and only glanced once up at Thorin's eyes, before evading his gaze altogether. The tips of her ears were slowly turning red.

"I was wondering..." she began, "well, Nori said that the inexperienced riders should share a pony with someone and I'm one of the inexperienced riders while you are used to riding, so I was wondering, Mister Oakenshield, if I could maybe ride with you?"

Thorin couldn't understand why such a question would make her so nervous – it would be an honour to ride with her and anyone who would turn her away had to be a true fool. Thorin was no fool and so he said, "Of course, Miss Baggins," inclining his head just the slightest bit.

Bella let out a breath she had apparently been holding, before giving Thorin an earnest smile and hurrying to climb on the pony. It wasn't until she was sitting astride Minty that Thorin came to fully think about the consequences of his promise: he would have to _share a pony_ with her which would be undoubtedly uncomfortable in more than one way.

Thorin cursed himself. What if he got aroused by her? He had promised to share a pony with her, but if he was going to do that, he should find his release now, so that he wouldn't get hard later when riding.

"It's been four minutes already, even though Uncle said that we would leave in three," Fili was muttering to himself, tapping his fingers against his thigh in an impatient manner. "We're not getting any closer to Kili like this."

That was more than enough to shake Thorin out of his lustful thoughts. Kili had been taken to elven territory and there was no time to waste.

"I'll sit in the front," he told Bella, but she shook her head, biting her lip.

"I would fall off," she claimed sheepishly. "My arms would get tired of holding on to you and I just know that I would fall off. Can I not sit in the front?"

Annoyed, he reluctantly agreed and climbed onto the saddle to sit behind her. He kicked Minty forward and the other dwarves followed his suit, spurring their ponies onwards.

They rode like that for two hours, Thorin leading his Company with Fili by his left side. Dwalin and Balin were riding behind them, both of them grumbling in Khuzdul about wizards and abductions. Gandalf had situated his horse beside Bombur whose pony kept dancing nervously, while Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Nori and Ori were at the tail.

At some point, Thorin's arm wrapped itself around Bella's mid-section without any conscious thought on his part. So plagued by worries he was that it took him almost half an hour to realize what he had done, but since Bella wasn't saying anything about it and since she had actually placed a hand on the arm he had wrapped around her, Thorin allowed himself to continue holding her like this, close to him, secure and safe. She offered him a steady point to focus on in his turmoil, in his anguish for Kili, and he took comfort from her, unaware of this though she may have been.

"Can't we ride any faster?" asked Fili, his manner stiff with unease and frustration. He was holding Kili's pony by the reins, walking her by his side. "_Eru_, Thorin: at this speed Kili has grown a beard as long as Balin's by the time we finally reach Rivendell!"

"You think that I'm making us _loiter_ on purpose?" snapped Thorin in return. "We're taking a risk by riding the ponies even at this pace. Have you not noticed how skittish they are, how easily spooked? The ponies are most comfortable moving at this pace and so this is the pace we're going to keep to keep them under control."

And that pace they did keep, though neither Fili nor Thorin were particularly happy about it. Kili's riderless pony followed them in a restless manner, but Thorin couldn't quite bring himself to look at her, so painful was the evidence of Kili's absence.

"How could Gandalf do it?" asked Fili, shaking his head as if he still didn't quite believe what had happened to his brother. "How _could_ he take Kili from us, how _could_ he sent Kili away like that? It was such a low, dishonourable thing to do. It was cruel to separate us. Kili is now all alone somewhere out there and it's all due to Gandalf."

"Wizards are impossible to understand," said Thorin. "They have their own motives, their own goals. They are more concerned about things at large than with details; it seems like Gandalf considers Kili to be a 'detail'."

"Kili is no detail! I won't have him treated as such."

"Neither will I," swore Thorin, "and we will do all that we can to get him back."

"I know we will," said Fili, sighing as he looked at the riderless pony, "but I worry for him, as I know you do too, Uncle. Even though Kili can be _very_ annoying when he puts his mind to it, I don't like not having him around. He's my brother. I truly wish that he was here with us."

"So do I, my boy, so do I..."

"I'm sure Kili will be fine," Bella put in. "Try not to worry too much. After all, Gandalf said that Radagast would take him to _Rivendell_."

"Gandalf had no right to have my heir taken anywhere!"

"No, no, Mister Oakenshield," she hurried to say, giving Thorin's arm a few reassuring pats, "of course he didn't. Absolutely not! He shouldn't have done what he did. But I just- I'm sure Kili will be fine. He's with _elves_, after all."

"My Kili," Thorin said bitterly, "taken to _elves_."

"Yes, exactly," said Bella. "So he should be fine. I can see that you love your nephews very much, Mister Oakenshield, and I understand that you worry, but Kili _will_ be fine, believe me. He'll be fine, Fili, I'm sure of it. You'll just wait and see."

Fili gave her a forced smile.

"Let this situation be a lesson to you both," said Thorin. "Only trust wizards to a certain degree and always use your judgement when dealing with them."

"I will certainly keep that in mind," Fili promised with a sharp nod. "I must admit that I may have been too idealistic when it has come to wizards. If wizards have done something like this to you in the past, Thorin, I can well understand why you don't like to have them around."

Bella stayed silent, though Thorin had a feeling that there were many things she wanted to say.

* * *

It happened eventually, just as Thorin had feared it would: Even though he was angry at Gandalf and terribly worried for Kili, he couldn't prevent his body from reacting, so soft and warm Bella was against him, so pleasantly and rhythmically her arse was bouncing against his groin, in such mesmerizing manner her breasts were jiggling _right there_ for Thorin to see if he just looked down her bodice (Thorin tried not to look). He cursed himself for not spilling his seed before climbing to sit behind her, though he _couldn't_ have wasted time like that, not when Kili was missing.

From Thorin's point of view, Bella looked quite content and completely unaware of how fast his heart was pounding in his chest, the same chest against which she was currently leaning. At first he tried to edge backwards, to move away from her, to put some distance between them. It didn't really work since the saddle was only so large and there was only so much room to move. Soon Bella began to wriggle against the growing pressure, apparently trying to find a more comfortable position to sit in. The wriggling only made the situation so much worse for Thorin and eventually it all got to the point where he knew that there was no way for her not to recognize the insistent pressure against her buttocks for what it was.

Feeling embarrassed and quite annoyed at himself, Thorin cleared his throat.

"My- my apologies, Miss Baggins," he said loudly enough for only her to hear, though he needn't have bothered to lower his voice, for Fili had dropped back to talk with Balin and Dwalin and so there was no-one there to listen in. "This is not suitable behaviour for any a dwarf, let alone for me. I am very sorry, truly. I shall call the Company to a halt and you can go ride with Balin, or anyone else you like to."

He was just about to do that too, when the hand on his arm tightened its hold and Bella gave him a brief squeeze.

"Hush, Mister Oakenshield," she said, keeping her voice low as well. "Unless _you_ want me to share a pony with someone else, there's no need for any of that. I am content where I am – it was I who asked to ride with you, was it not, and I have not changed my mind."

Thorin couldn't quite believe her words and she seemed to sense his hesitation, as she turned her head to looked up at him. It had been a long time since he had seen her face this close and he had almost forgotten the freckles she had on her nose and the wrinkles around her eyes. Her lashes were long and he wished that he could one day feel them against his skin.

Mahal, she didn't know what she did to him.

Except, now she definitely did.

"Really, now," she was saying. "We are both adults and I have done and seen my fair deal. I'm not afraid of your arousal like some young, chaste maiden. Rather, I'm very flattered by it. It might be indecent of me, but then again, it wasn't very decent of me to join your Company in the first place."

Had she been any other woman telling him that she didn't mind his arousal, Thorin would have been more relaxed with the whole situation. But this wasn't about a mere physical reaction, no, not at all. This was about the sweet Bella who held Thorin's heart in her small hands without even knowing it. He had hoped to rebuild their friendship before allowing anything like this to happen between them, but now she knew that he was attracted to her and Thorin feared that it would hinder them becoming friends, as sometimes happened.

This would hinder their friendship from building, Thorin knew, but only _if_ they let it do so. And they wouldn't. He wouldn't.

And neither would Bella, it seemed, for she said, "Besides, Mister Oakenshield, I do recall us making babies in a sack the other night, so I suppose this isn't that much compared to it."

It wasn't much of a joke, but Thorin let out a startled chuckle, nevertheless.

"Though I do wish that you won't throw up on me this time," she added cheekily, before resuming to look ahead.

* * *

The Company had been riding for closer to three hours when they came unexpectedly face to face with a group of elves. There were fifteen of them, all riding horses and carrying weapons, and Thorin exchanged a dark look with Dwalin who had spurred his pony to come to Thorin's side as soon as the elves had come into sight.

The elves informed them that they were "the Guards of Dijiradin" and that they had been sent to escort Gandalf and the Company to Rivendell by the request of Lord Elrond himself. Balin voiced Thorin's thoughts by inquiring whether the dwarves were now prisoners since they were considered to be in need of an "escort" of fifteen armed elves, but the elves denied this, claiming that they were there only to guide and to offer protection. Before anything else could be said, Gandalf announced that it would be best for all parties if he was the one to do the talking on behalf of the dwarves, warning Thorin sharply not to do anything "rash" or "foolish".

After asking after Kili and after being told vaguely that "The young prince is currently being cared for by Lord Elrond," Thorin allowed Gandalf to be the one to converse with the elves. It appeared that Bella liked elves just as much as she had the last time, Thorin noted sourly, and she seemed eager to hear every word they uttered. Thorin's arousal had thankfully been wilted quite effectively by the urgency to find Kili and by the presence of the elves.

The Guards of "Dijiradin" – whatever that was – did escort them to Rivendell. When the dwarves crossed the bridge that led into the Last Homely House, they saw that there were several elves waiting for them. Lord Elrond was among them, standing in front of the steps, dressed in burgundy velvet.

The dwarves were all still covered with dried troll snot and orc blood, and their appearances varied from scruffy to ragged. They hadn't had the opportunity to braid their hair properly nor to comb their beards and they all had dark bags under their eyes. Bella looked almost as unkempt as the rest of their lot with the exception of Gandalf who looked like he always did.

In contrast, the elves were all groomed and breathtakingly beautiful – Bella did actually gasp when first laying her eyes on them. Their features were fair and regal, their limbs long and lean. They all had clean, dark hair which came down to their mid-backs like expensive, shiny veils. Their clothes were of rich, good quality and the jewellery they wore gleamed in the sunlight as if enchanted.

As soon as Gandalf and the Company came to a halt in front of the elves, Lord Elrond stepped forward and spread out his arms in a greeting.

"We greet thee, Mithrandir!" he said. "We greet thee, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thror, son of Thrain, and the kin of thine! We greet thee, halfling, dweller of the Peaceful West! I am Lord Elrond and you are all welcome to my home!"

"We thank you, my friend," Gandalf said, dismounting his horse and handing the reins over to a waiting elf. "It has been quite an exhausting day and we certainly appreciate elven hospitality."

While Gandalf and Elrond embraced, Thorin gave the Company a sharp nod and so they all dismounted, the dwarves eyeing the elves with visible caution, while Bella did nothing to hide her awe. Gandalf was speaking in an elvish language and Elrond had focused his full attention on him, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Lord Elrond," Thorin interrupted whatever it was that Gandalf was saying and both Elrond and Gandalf turned to look at him, Elrond attentively, Gandalf in a more tentative manner. "Where is my sister-son, Prince Kili? I was led to believe that he was under your care here in Rivendell, yet I cannot see him in the midst of your people."

A bright smile spread across Elrond's face at the mention of Kili and even some of the other elves smiled a little. The dwarves shifted restlessly, studying the elven lord with suspicion.

"_They dare find a young dwarf separated from his kin_ amusing_?_" hissed Dwalin in angry Khuzdul, but Thorin never had the change to answer, as Elrond already spoke.

"Your nephew is, indeed, a guest in my house," he said. "Radagast the Brown brought him here some hours ago with a request from Gandalf to look after him. Young Prince Kili was initially a bit startled, quite understandably, to find himself here when he woke up, but now he is quite all right, I assure you. It has been a long time since we have had the opportunity to play host to one of the line of Durin, and if all your kin are nowadays as pleasant and delightful company as Prince Kili, it is indeed a true pleasure to have you stay here with us."

Narrowing his eyes, Thorin inclined his head to acknowledge the words. This was elven deceit at its best – Lord Elrond was generous with his praise for Thorin's heir and his manner was just as amiable as his words, but Thorin knew better than to trust any of it. Too many a time had he been betrayed by a smiling elf, too many a time had he been deceived by Lord Elrond's kind.

Concerned, Thorin now wondered if the elves had already managed to use their powers to affect Kili's mind, if Kili had fallen for their powerful enchantments. Kili had been in Rivendell for several hours, anything could have happened during that time, anything could have been done to him! What had the elves done to Thorin's little boy?

"I would like to see Kili for myself," Thorin said haughtily, and even though he was much shorter than the elves, he still somehow managed to look at them down his nose.

There was a fleeting expression of something like disappointment and resignation on Lord Elrond's face, but it was gone in a heartbeat, replaced by politeness.

"Of course," Lord Elrond spoke, gesturing towards the main building. "If you could please kindly follow me, Master Oakenshield, I will take you to Prince Kili, while the rest of your Company shall be taken to the guest rooms that have been prepared for them."

"I, too, would like to go see my brother," Fili hurried to say, edging closer to Thorin.

"We shall all come with you!" declared Gloin loudly and the other dwarves voiced their agreements – they weren't going to leave Thorin alone with any an elf. Neither was Gandalf, but most likely from different reasons.

Lord Elrond's gaze flickered from Fili to the rest of the Company and he gave a nod.

"As you wish," he said.

The Company was led into the Northern Wing of Lord Elrond's peaceful home. The wing was spacious and airy and made mostly out of white marble. There were several water fountains there and all of them murmured softly. While Thorin would have prefered to not have noticed the elven beauty all around him, Bella's gasps and sharp inhales always let him know when they were passing by something particularly pretty. He had, of course, seen all of this before, since he had spent some time in this same wing the last time too, but he was still reluctantly impressed with the skilfully made carvings on the walls, among other things.

They walked along the hallways towards the area in which the bathing rooms were located, if Thorin recalled correctly, while Gandalf and Lord Elrond talked quietly in Elvish, apparently delighted to see each other. It soon turned out that Thorin's assumption had been correct, as the hallways did indeed lead to the bathing rooms. As they passed by the saunas, the air turned humid, but as soon as they reached the slightly cooler pool area, it became easier to breathe again.

Lord Elrond guided them into the common bathing hall which was located at the far end of the hallway. In the common bathing hall, there was one large pool with clear blue water and several small, round pools surrounding it. In some of the round pools the water seemed to be steaming, while a cascade poured water into the large pool. By the walls, there were yellow screens, large mirrors, benches, chairs and shelves full of folded towels and soaps of all colours. In one corner, five elves were playing songs with flutes and harps to entertain the few elves that Thorin could see washing themselves in some of the pools.

"I would sure like to take a bath," sighed Bella, looking wistfully at the steaming pools.

"You are welcome to do so too," said Elrond, smiling down at her. "Take whatever you need from the shelves and choose a pool of your liking. Clothes can be left behind the screens. They will be washed and brought to your room. In the meantime, you can wear whatever you find in the guest wardrobes."

"We can bathe later," said Fili curtly. "Why exactly are we here, Lord Elrond? I thought we were supposed to go see my brother."

"Oh, but my dear dwarf," said Gandalf, "we are here to see your brother – look!"

Thorin turned to gaze at the direction in which Gandalf was pointing at with his staff. And there, in the far end of the bathing hall, he finally saw the nephew that had been taken from him, the nephew whom he had been looking for for hours.

Kili was sitting on one of the comfortable-looking chairs. He was wearing a white, lush bathing gown and a lilac towel had been wrapped around his head in a turban-fashion. His skin looked flushed as if he had only just stepped out of one of the hot pools. There was a box full of colourful sweets in his lap and he kept popping them in his mouth with his left hand, while his right hand was being held by an elf who was cleaning his nails. Another elf was kneeling in front of him, massaging his feet. He looked more contented than Thorin had seen him in ages.

The rest of the Company seemed to agree with Thorin's assessment, if the contents of their murmurs were anything to go by, but Thorin didn't really listen to them, as he was already hurrying towards his (missing) found nephew with Fili right at his heel.

When Kili noticed his approaching family, a wide grin spread on his flushed face.

"Fili! Uncle Thorin!" he cried. "Finally you're here! "

Apologizing to the elves around him, Kili scrambled up to his feet, mindful of the box of sweets in his hand, and rushed to meet Fili and Thorin, sliding a bit on the wet floor. Thorin was already holding out his arms, and as soon as Kili was in his reach, he drew the boy in a hug. Relief flooded in him and he hugged Kili closer, tighter, whispering in Kili's ear something about nephews giving old uncles terrible scares.

After hugging Kili, Thorin examined him carefully and thoroughly for injuries and any signs of mistreatment, while the rest of the Company gathered around them, clapping each other and all three Durins in the back. Kili chattered enthusiastically the whole time, which didn't really surprise Thorin - after being scared or worried or otherwise upset, Kili's relief often manifested itself in talking the minute he saw either his brother or uncle or both like in this case both.

"I thought I had gone to the Halls of Our Ancestors when I woke up here," Kili now told them happily. "I thought that one of the orcs had managed to sneak up on me from behind during the fight and that I had died instantly. I may have been sad about that because I thought that I had left you behind, but then Lord Elrond appeared and explained everything. I became angry then and wanted to ride back to you, but Lord Elrond asked me to stay, just in case you would take a different route when coming here, resulting in us crossing paths, and I agreed to stay, but only because I thought that it would have upset you had I not been here when you arrived. Can you believe this place? Like this bathing hall, for instance - every pool is of different temperature and there are _so many_ soaps, all with their own specific scent, and I tried them all, or almost all, at least, but I liked the yellow one the best. Lord Elrond gave me this box of sweets when he told me I wasn't dead, these are really sugary and I mean _really_ sugary and sweet, here, take some!"

Thorin found no visible wounds on Kili and so he pulled the boy in another hug, taking the offered box of sweets from him and thrusting it on Bofur (who took it eagerly). Kili was warm and a bit wet, and he smelt of-

"You better stay back, Fili," Thorin warned his older sister-son, his voice thick with emotion. "Your brother smells like apples, we won't want to make you sick."

Thorin choke a bit as soon as he fully realized what he had just said: he had just offered the Company information about his _grâhabunka_, relief had made him careless - this Fili hadn't escaped imprisonment in a barrel that smelt like apples and so this Fili didn't get sick when around apples or their scent.

Fortunately, no-none seemed to think too much of his slip up, not analyzing his words too closely.

"Want to know what _you_ smell like?" snorted Kili, pulling away from Thorin to hold his nose. "Ugh, Uncle, you are absolutely reeking! And – _is that dried blood all over your front_?"

"Yep, that's orc blood all right," confirmed Fili who had waited impatiently for his turn to greet his brother. He now drew Kili in a hug of his own, squeezing tightly until Kili was wheezing, and then ruffled the dark hair affectionately. "Aww, Kili, you do smell like apples – very sensible choise of a soap for a _baby_ brother, I'd say."

"Oh, shut up," said Kili but there was no heat behind it.

* * *

_A/N: The opinions concerning elves expressed herein are Thorin's and do not represent the author's views in any way._

_Feel free to let me know if you're still reading. And thank you for all the lovely comments so far, they've been so encouraging! :)  
_


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